Perspective
by Mr H Pickles
Summary: It is always possible for complacency to cause problems, even in the dying Moscow Metro. Lifelong friends Ilia and Alexandr were never strangers to struggle, but their reliance on each other and the benefits of living in Hansa's ring line become all too clear when the pair are suddenly separated. Rated M for language, violence, and sexual references/themes. FINISHED
1. Chapter 1 - Diversion

Chapter 1: Diversion

Ilia – Day 1 – 12:06

Alexandr and I carefully trudged through the darkened tunnel. Our flashlights facing forward, skipping across the walls as we looked for danger. The revolver in my other hand vaguely followed the movements of the dim (but fully charged) flashlight. The revolver was old but still did its job well. The slightly rusting metal and the worn and splintered wooden handle gave it an unassuming presence but its stopping power was enough to make any bandit think twice. I'd had the weapon for years, ever since a family had given it to me as payment for finding an heirloom of theirs in the abandoned station of Dmitrovskaya. It had served me well over the years, I'd even fashioned a leather holster for it that I attached to my belt. I needed some money to buy more ammo for it, however, as I only had the six rounds in its cylinder and another six to spare.

Sticking to the left-hand side of the tunnel, we cautiously stepped over outcroppings of debris and rusted train tracks where they seemed to randomly divert from their normal central course. Alexandr to my left held his makeshift assault rifle, endearingly named the 'Bastard' by myself, up to his shoulder. The long weapon featured a slim barrel with a polished wooden block strapped to the bottom as a grip. The stock was a lightweight but flimsy collapsible set of two metal bars linked by a crude piece of curved wood at the end to rest his shoulder on. The magazine was placed horizontally half way down the gun and was completely exposed, showing all thirty of the bullets available to Alexandr. The whole weapon was an expensive mess that tended to jam and overheat with an alarming regularity; the exposed magazine probably didn't help much. His flashlight, hastily taped to the side of the rifle, slowly moved across the seemingly never-ending tunnel. We briefly stopped so that he could reach into my small single-strap pack across my back to pull out a manual charger for his weapon's dimming flashlight. We were back to moving through the tunnel again in just under a minute.

We were both quite adapted to exploring the tunnels at this point since we'd made something of a living out of it through selling findings back home in Novoslobodskaya, though I felt that I was slightly stronger than Alex as I was usually the one to get him out of tricky situations. We wore practical clothing; tight-fitting dark shirts with thick trousers that boasted multiple large pockets. The leather gloves and large boots that we wore were annoying and uncomfortable, but they were a must for the harsh environments of the Metro. We'd even cut our almost matching brown hair (with Alexandr's being a slightly lighter shade than mine) short and shaved any facial haired best as we could so that nothing was an irritating distraction. Despite our similarities, Alex was still two years younger than me at twenty-two so I felt like I had to watch over him with care.

Alexandr stopped after a few more minutes and whispered to me, "Ilia, over there." He pointed his light at a green metal door on the other side of the tunnel. "We should check in there."

"Why?" I whispered back, "We're going to Tsvetnoy Bulvar. That's where all of the good shit is supposed to be."

"Come on, live a little." Alex's small grin made its way through the darkness.

"I'd like to live a lot, Alex."

Alex exasperatedly lowered his gun and dramatically sighed before saying, "Come on!" and quietly jogging off towards the door. As he happily skipped over the tracks, I sighed and trudged over to the door. He got to it and stood on the left-hand side as he waited for me. I observed the door's flaky green paint and huge patches of rust all over it before standing on the right-hand side, next to the narrow iron handle that was only screwed in at the top. Alex glanced at me and simply nodded.

He put his left arm on the door and held his gun up with his right, aiming at the opening, about to push the door open. Just before he did, I got his attention and turned my light off in front of him. Rolling his eyes, he reached across his gun and did the same. He got back into position and slowly put some force into pushing the door open. With a muscle-tensing creak, Alex spent about ten seconds carefully opening the door while moving through it gun first. I held my revolver up and followed him.

The room inside extended to the left in a moderately sized square shape, but was completely pitch black apart from the occasional extremely dim red light on the walls and a bright flashlight in the far-left corner. The red lights illuminated little more than the bleak concrete walls they were placed on, some covered in cracks and stains, others devoid of anything of note. The flashlight was a small but bright white light that showed bloodstains and claw marks all over the floor. It was angled down so it didn't show much of the floor, but what it did show was enough to make me want to turn back immediately.

Unfortunately, Alex pressed on. I moved further in and slowly pushed the door to. The skin-crawling creak echoed through the room. We edged further into the room and looked around for a moment as we waited for our natural night vision to kick in.

A minute or two later and we could just about make out the larger obstacles in our path. The centre had a metal mesh square structure that stretched from the floor to the almost seven-foot-high ceiling. Inside, there seemed to be old electrical equipment and several dials showing incomprehensible readings. Other than that, and the usual debris and spider webs that covered everywhere in the Metro, the room was relatively bare. Pipes came from the machine in the centre and led to the far wall which was subsequently covered in more pipes that seemed to lead to no place in particular.

"Seems clear," Alex whispered, staring at the room before him. He looked at me, expecting a response, to which I simply nodded. He stretched his arm over to his flashlight, keeping his weapon as level as he could, and flicked it on.

" _Alex!_ " I angrily hissed. "Turn that shit off!"

"Relax. There's nothing here." He spoke in a slightly louder tone than was currently comfortable. I glared at him for a few moments before he completely ignored my stare and said, "Watch my back, I'm going to check out that light."

I muttered the word 'fuck' under my breath and had a look through the small gap in the ajar door. I could barely see thirty feet in front of me but everything seemed quiet.

A couple of minutes passed before Alex piped up again.

"Ilia!" I shot him an angry glare as his uncomfortably loud voice reached my ears. "Get over here, there's something cool you should see." I checked that we weren't being watched outside again and quietly closed the door fully, lowering the metal latch that rested in its iron holder on the concrete next to the door, locking it from the inside. I turned my flashlight on and made my way over to him.

Bouncing my light across the cracked and broken concrete floor revealed a littering of spent bullet casings as well as the occasional bloodstain. These got more and more concentrated as I got closer to Alex until I finally arrived at the mysterious flashlight. Shining my torch towards him revealed the source; the body of a Fourth Reich soldier lay slumped in the corner of the room. Alex turned off the flashlight that was taped to the side of the young man's thick and heavy but severely damaged combat helmet. His youthful face was petrified in a constant look of terror with blood spattered across its entirety. His neck had a massive gash through it, revealing the crimson internals within. His thick grey clothing and body armour was completely ruined and covered all over with large amounts of blood from the brutal cuts and lacerations. By his side was an AK-74M snapped in half with ammo strewn all around him. Alex was trying to amass all of these bullets so that he could use them in his own gun. Overall, the soldier was very well equipped, but most of it was completely ruined.

I knelt down next to the fallen soldier and asked Alex, "What do you think the Nazis were doing this far from Chekhovskaya?"

"Fuck knows. But look! Bullets!" He excitedly pointed at one of the soldier's trouser pockets and pulled out two partially full magazines. He was right to be excited, these were military grade bullets; the main currency of the Metro. They were highly sought after simply because they were the best at killing and they were much rarer than the 'dirty' bullets we used in our day to day lives. They were made before the bombs dropped and it was incredibly difficult to make more of the same quality. Due to their value, they were generally only used as ammunition in the most dire circumstances.

"How many?" I tried to hold back any sound of excitement, likely not successfully though.

"There's about forty… fifty here." He kept rummaging through the poor soldier's pockets "We're fucking rich, Ilia!" It was unfortunate that I wasn't fazed by this. Corpses of varying decomposition were the norm for our lives. We would often explore the parts of tunnels that most were too afraid to go down and so often saw the results of previous explorations. We weren't necessarily braver than most, Alex tended to just assume everything would be fine and I, for some reason, went along with it.

"Alex, you watch my back I'll check through this guy," I instructed. He gave me a look of mild confusion, "You've got the machine gun, you do the fighting."

"I found the guy, I'm going to check his fucking pockets."

I gave him a brief look of resignation before standing up and muttering, "Then why do you get the fucking machine gun?"

Just about hearing me ask this, he replied, "Because I spent my hard-earned bullets on it!"

"Yeah," I began, adding a small pause for emphasis, "while I spent _my_ hard-earned bullets on food, maps, lighters, flashlights and the recharger for the both of us." I felt my voice raise slightly as I said this. He averted his gaze and kept rifling through the pockets of the soldier. He was a stubborn one, he knew I was right but he would never admit it.

Resigned to my fate, I shined my flashlight over to the door and began to move towards it. As I idly bounced my light across the room I briefly spotted another door on the left-hand wall, barely noticeable with the dim red light above it hardly reaching it. Lighting it up with my light and moving towards it revealed a once similarly green-coloured door that was nearly entirely covered in brown-orange rust. Only a few flakes of green paint remained and the rust had gotten so bad that there was a small, sharp looking hole in near the centre of it. I crouched down to its level and shined my light through it. It seemed as if there was a narrow concrete service tunnel that stretched beyond the reach of my light.

"Alex!" I called across the room as I stepped back from the door and looked towards him, "You know when you 'checked out the room'?"

From behind me, I heard a faint and inquisitive, "Yeah," from an unmoving Alex.

"You missed an entire fucking door."

He turned around to look at me. "Huh. So I did." He thought for a second, "Is it anything interesting?"

"Luckily for you, it seems pretty uninteresting." I stared at him for a while, expecting him to catch on. When it was clear that he wouldn't, I sighed and aggressively explained. "There could have been anything behind this door! Nosalises are everywhere, you need to be fucking careful around here."

"Alright, alright!" Alex said defensively while holding his arms up, attempting to alleviate himself of all blame. "Sorry, man. I'll do it next time." He thought for a moment. "So, what's behind there?"

I quickly shrugged before going to pull back on the rusting handle, this one attached at both ends. I gripped it and wrenched it back, expecting the door to come with it. The sound of the rusting metal screws breaking accompanied the door handle shearing completely off. I briefly looked at the handle in mild confusion as Alex let out a small chuckle.

Stepping back and dropping the broken handle, I tried to shrug off the mild embarrassment and readied myself for a kick. I lifted my leg up and, with one swift move and a loud grunt, I pushed my foot forward and smashed it into the door, just below the hole. I quickly pulled my leg back and watched as the bottom half of the door nearly completely crumbled and fell apart with some of the larger pieces of rusting metal dragging other pieces with them. The shearing of metal was accompanied by the clanging of pieces falling onto the hard concrete floor. The sounds echoed through the room and down the corridor.

The moment that this ended, we heard a horrifying sound. Multiple roars and screeches penetrated the walls from the large tunnel that we were once in. They persisted for a few seconds as both Alex and I turned our flashlights off. Immediately recognising the sound as that of a nosalis horde, I darted behind the electrical equipment in the centre and gestured to Alex that he should do the same in an attempt to put a wall between us and the tunnel door. He scrabbled around for his gun and rushed over to me. We reached the wall and sat back against it, clutching our weapons and listening to the commotion outside intently.

I could hear Alex breathing nervously to my right, to which I had to quickly jab my elbow into him to make him realise he was being loud. He stopped, held his gun close, and closed his eyes as he tried to listen to everything happening outside. I noticed that his trigger discipline was worrying but I couldn't do anything about it at that moment. We heard the creatures outside running around in the tunnel, it sounded like there were hundreds of them. We could hear their heavy footsteps rushing across the floors, walls and ceilings of the tunnels. They kept roaring at each other as they hunted us.

One of them clearly latched on to where we were because we heard it crash into the door. The hinges of the door and the screws of the latch creaked and moaned as they deformed under the pressure being put on them. Another hit gave a higher pitched screech from the door. I looked around my cover at the door and saw a small gap forming in between the hinges of the door when the door had bent out of shape under the force of the beast. A third hit enlarged the gap and I caught a glimpse of the abomination's long, slick and dark brown arm. Its muscles flexed as it crashed into the metal. The sharp edges of the rust had cut into its skin and a small amount of blood ran down its arm but it didn't care at all, it was focused on the door. I quickly hid my body from view as the creature smashed into the door a fourth time. I could hear the door deforming; it was nearing its breaking point. The monster seemed to know this. In amongst all of the movement outside, I could hear the creature rearing up for one final strike. It snarled and roared loudly as it rushed up to the door, smashing into it with all of its weight. The door let out an ear-piercing screech as the hinges and screws bent and eventually sheared off. The door flew into our room and crashed down onto the floor, scraping across the concrete and landing on the floor with a huge, echoing crash.

We could hear beast slowly enter the room, snarling as it went. Its huge fists and feet hit the floor one after the other with blunt and heavy thuds as it analysed the room. Both Alex and I pulled our legs in closer so that they wouldn't show to the darkness-adapted nosalis. It approached us, slamming its feet into the floor even harder to give itself an intimidating presence. It grasped the corner of the mesh just above my head with its right hand, both Alex and I slowly and silently turned our heads to look up at it. Its three claws were thick, long and incredibly sharp. They bent and deformed the mesh as it gripped and pulled itself forward to look around. I held my breath as a bead of sweat dripped down my face. I placed my finger on the trigger of my revolver and slowly aimed it upwards at where the mutant was about to be, my hand quivering slightly as I did so.

The monster's head came into view as it scanned the surroundings ahead of it. Its tiny orange eyes quickly darted around as its large head slowly and ominously moved from left to right. It opened its huge mouth and snarled, showing its multiple sets of jagged and spiky teeth. The skin around its mouth looked as if it had been pulled back revealing the dark pink muscle below but it didn't seem to bother the creature. It leant forward, placing its left arm on the ground and bending the mesh in its right hand's grip even further. The wound it had sustained slowly dripped a dark crimson blood on the floor but it didn't pay attention to that at all. We didn't move a muscle.

After searching the immediate area, the creature prepared to move forward until it was stopped by the heavy footsteps of another entering the room. Its head darted around so that it was looking over the shoulder opposite to us. The other nosalis seemed to stop and snarl as the first let go of the mesh and intimidatingly turned its body to face it. The snarling and growling grew louder as the beasts competed for their prizes. This seemed to go on for an age but was likely only actually for half a minute or so.

The visible back legs of the monster suddenly disappeared as it almost seemed to bark and pounce towards the other creature. The other one yelped but appeared to fight back. We could hear them both scrabbling around, biting and attacking each other. Every time they did any damage, a piercing cry reverberated through the room. Amongst all of this, I tapped Alex on the shoulder, held my finger up to my lips, indicating to him that he should be quiet, and pointed in the direction of the second door to the right of us. He nodded, cautiously looked around to his right and quickly but quietly darted over to the door, keeping his head low and his gun high. I followed shortly after and looked over at the creatures just in time for one of them to launch itself at the other with all of its power, firing both of them out of the doorway and into the tunnel beyond.

Alex didn't even look, he reached the door as fast as he could, threw his gun through the gap, and crawled through. The gun clattered loudly on the concrete floor but, fortunately, the creatures were distracted with their fight. As soon as he could, he grabbed his gun and leapt upright, moving further into the corridor as he did. Once the way was clear, I quietly scrabbled under as well, picking myself up at the other end to find that Alex had rushed off a good distance down the tunnel without his light on. I could still hear the creatures fighting as I rushed forwards to meet back up with him.

I cautiously but quickly moved forwards in the dark, whispering his name a few times to try and get his attention so that I could catch up to him. I was worried he had just run off and I wouldn't find him again. Feeling the wall for stability, I rounded a corner and stopped. I could hear the distant fighting of the beasts but nothing seemed to be coming closer to me. I pulled my flashlight back out and flipped it on to have a look at the way ahead of me. Suddenly, in front of me was Alex's face staring straight at me. Startled, I jumped back and said 'fuck' slightly louder than I would have wanted. Keeping the torch facing towards him, I checked the corridor I had just come down to make sure nothing had heard my expletive. When I couldn't hear anything moving towards us, I turned back to Alex and just said, "We should get the fuck out of here."

He nodded frantically, switched his light on and moved carefully down the corridor with me following. We were both panting heavily as we did so, amazed that we were both still alive. We didn't talk as we moved down the narrow and oppressive concrete corridor, instead just listening for any movement around us. We kept our lights in front of us and glanced over the miscellaneous pipes and electrical equipment that ran across the occasionally cracked walls.

After nearly ten minutes of slow walking, we came across an open doorway on the right of the corridor just at the edge of our flashlight range. Alex and I looked at each other, turned our flashlights off and edged forward, shaking with fear as we did so. We listened out for any movement as we approached. Nothing.

Alex reached the door and pushed his back against the wall next to it. He closed his eyes and psyched himself up before opening his eyes again and tentatively pushed his head around the corner. I heard him breathe a sigh of relief as he stepped out and aimed his gun through the doorway.

He took a step in, turned his flashlight on and whispered, "Seems clear." I also turned my light on and peered through the doorway to assess the situation. This seemed like it was a small maintenance room. There was a multitude of pipes across the walls with various valves and dials, many of which were broken. I shone my light at the floor which revealed a large and dirty sleeping bag laid out in the back-left corner and several empty tins of food scattered around the room, all of which was covered in a thin layer of dust. This had clearly been used as a home for someone a long time ago. The open door was very similar to the others we'd encountered but seemed to have fared much better, there were very few patches of rust and the handle looked relatively secure.

"Let's have a rest before we carry on," I whispered to Alex. He nodded and sat down on the sleeping bag against the wall, putting his gun on the ground and turning off his flashlight as he did. I tentatively pushed the door to a close and locked it with the same latch design that was on the other door.

Exhaling heavily, I sat down next to Alex. I turned my flashlight off and put both it and my revolver on the ground before resting my head on the concrete wall behind me, closing my eyes and just saying, "Fuck."


	2. Chapter 2 - Tsvetnoy Bulvar

Chapter 2: Tsvetnoy Bulvar

Alexandr – Day 1 – 13:21

Ilia and I sat in the darkened room for ages. Even after we'd composed ourselves and split the fifty-four bullets that I'd found on the Nazi soldier, neither of us wanted to be the first to volunteer to move forward again. Ilia idly opened up the chamber on his revolver and pretended to check his ammo a few times as I tightened one of the loose screws in my rifle that always seemed to need tightening. We couldn't be sure how long we waited for, but I could tell that Ilia started to get bored.

"We should move on soon," he eventually said.

I was still happy to sit in safety. "It's comfortable here, though. Let's just stay here until the horde's gone."

"It's probably gone now; nosalises don't stick where there's no food for long." He stood up, turned his light on and shined it at me. The light was piss-weak so it didn't bother me too much. "Come on, get up."

He enjoyed being in control of things. It was starting to get frustrating so I had started to stand up for myself a bit more lately. "Just a few hours. There's no harm in it."

"We don't have enough food. This was only supposed to _take_ a few hours. We have to go, Alex."

"Fine. Have it your way." I slowly raised to my feet, being sure to exaggerate my groans to voice my displeasure. "Can we at least see if there's an exit that doesn't lead to certain death?"

"I'm more than happy to do that." He turned around as I turned my rifle's flashlight on. He lifted the latch and slowly pulled the door open. It was a painfully long process but I wasn't about to offer to go first. The door creaked open and Ilia quickly darted out to shine his flashlight in both directions of the narrow passage. When he saw nothing, he simply said, "Let's go." I stayed silent and followed him out and to the right, checking behind us with my light as I did.

Ilia led us down the passage for a few minutes before abruptly stopping.

"I think we just found who stayed here," he said, his eyes fixed forwards.

I glanced past him and saw a body pushed up against the wall. His tattered clothes were covered in blood, his stomach had been ripped completely open and its crimson insides had been clawed out and were spread across the area. One of his legs had also been torn off and was embedded in the wall on the other side and his face had been damaged so severely that it was unrecognisable as a human's face. He'd been thrown against the wall with so much force that it had cracked the concrete and knocked off a section of dormant pipe that ran across the wall. "Gross," I said, itching to get a move on away from this place. "Can we go?"

"Alex," Ilia began with another of his life lessons. "The creature that did this could still be around, we have to be careful."

"It was probably just another snout."

"It probably was, and we should be careful. Nosalises are deadly."

"Yeah, whatever." I barged past him and approached the body. I could feel Ilia's mild disdain but I ignored it and began to search through the corpse's few pockets that hadn't been destroyed by the attack. I found nothing more than a crumpled-up picture of a man and a woman. The people were presumably him and his wife, but his corpse's face was so messed up that I couldn't compare it to the picture. I chucked it aside and continued to rifle through the pockets.

"Show some respect, man," Ilia said derisively. I just shrugged him off and continued; It wasn't like the corpse was using the picture. I found a single large calibre bullet and nothing else of note on the body so I stood up and began to lead the way forward with my rifle raised, its torch lighting the way ahead. We rounded a corner and came across an open doorway to a large train tunnel.

"Turn your light off," Ilia quietly ordered. "Those things might still be out there; I think it's the same tunnel." I rolled my eyes, invisible to him, and obliged as he also turned his off. We waited for our natural night vision before advancing further. As we waited, I started idly fiddling with the bullet I'd found. I couldn't see it very well in the darkness but I noted its surprising size relative to a standard bullet. Plus, it seemed to have another metal stick welded to the side. As I felt around it, I noticed a rough cylindrical turning part to it. I quickly flicked it down and it created a spark that briefly lit up the corridor.

Ilia jumped back. "What the fuck was that?!"

I looked at him with glee as I flicked the cap of the bullet off on its apparent hinge. "Dude! It's a lighter!" I sparked it again which set the wick under the cap on fire and lit up the corridor in a low orange glow. "This is so cool!"

"Yeah, _really_ cool," Ilia replied sarcastically. "Now put it out. We don't want to get spotted." Begrudgingly, I flicked the cap back on and pocketed the lighter as we continued to wait in silence.

We finally approached the door which revealed that this was, in fact, the tunnel that we were once in. We listened for any sign of the nosalises but the air was perfectly still and calm. I turned my light on, sparking a small gasp of surprise from an Ilia on high alert. A quick glance around showed that we were right outside Tsvetnoy Bulvar. The tracks in the tunnel split apart from each other and into their own separate tunnels for a small distance before running either side of the small station.

"Dude, we made it!" I excitedly whispered.

"Keep your voice down," Ilia snapped, despite me being extremely quiet. "Let's not celebrate just yet. We'll have to see if there's anything worth scavenging."

"Don't be such a downer. Everyone knows this place is unexplored. There's going to be loads of pre-war shit."

"Right, sure," he replied sarcastically. "We've already found enough bullets to eat for a month, let's just take it easy."

Disappointed by Ilia's lack of enthusiasm, I moved into the leftmost tunnel and encouraged him to follow. This was the most exciting thing we'd done. We were used to scavenging, but it usually took place in the tunnels north of our home of Novoslobodskaya where most of the good stuff had been taken.

The station was in complete darkness, as was most of our journey so far. The once-beautiful marble walls were tarnished and blackened and some of the tiles had fallen out of their places and broken on the floor. The curved concrete roofs were relatively undamaged, simply blackened and old. As we moved into the centre, we noticed a few moderately sized semi-circles of stained glass designs placed at the top of each wall in between the gaps that led to the tracks. Most remained but my flashlight's beam didn't shine much through the dirt that had gathered on them and a few had fallen off and smashed, spreading multi-coloured glass all over the floor. The stairs up to the surface at the end led to a huge stained-glass design that remained in a decent, if tarnished, condition. We didn't go up to it, but it seemed to depict a lot of greenery on the surface, something I'd only heard about in stories from the older residents of our station. The whole station was a similar design to our home station but was completely unmaintained and generally less pretty. Disappointingly, the area looked devoid of anything other than a few piles of rubble.

"You check this side, I'll check around the stairs," I told Ilia, not letting him take the lead again.

"Shouldn't we stick together? What if something happens?"

I began to walk towards my side of the station. "Yeah, whatif something happens in this completely empty station?" I sarcastically replied. I heard him mutter something in response but I ignored it and carried on.

The side sections of the track continued on a little way beyond where the stairs started. I decided to move down the platform to the left of the stairs despite not seeing anything of note when I was further away. A closer inspection was just as disappointing since I found absolutely nothing.

"Are you sure the station's empty?" I heard a voice from within the tunnel I was next to. I panicked, turned my light off and rushed up to the wall to hide.

"For the last time, Leonid. Yes," a second voice began. "We checked it a couple of days ago."

"What happened to Oleg, then?" A third person asked.

"He wandered off and got himself lost in the tunnels," the second voice answered. "The stupid bastard probably got killed by nosalises."

The three figures shined their lights out of the tunnel and moved through it and into the station. I kept my breathing and movement to a minimum and sincerely hoped that Ilia had noticed them. I could only see their silhouettes in the darkness, but I could tell that they were Reich soldiers. They dressed identically in the same high-quality armour as we had seen on the corpse earlier. Two of them held AK-74Ms while the other casually carried a revolver. Few groups in the Metro were as well equipped as the Nazis.

"What are we doing here again?" The first person, apparently Leonid, asked.

"How do you forget everything I tell you?" The second responded; it seemed as though he was in charge of the group. "We're doing a final sweep of the station and nearby tunnels to clear it so that we can occupy it and expand our power. We can use it as a staging ground to attack Hansa at Mendeleevskaya if things heat up between us. They'd never expect it."

I heard this and panicked. Mendeleevskaya was joined with Novoslobodskaya, they wanted to attack my home and were going to try and break Hansa's ring line. Absorbed in these thoughts, I briefly forgot myself and shuffled slightly in place. The group stopped and I froze in response.

"Did you guys hear that?" The leader asked.

"Yeah, you're sure this place is empty?" One of the others asked.

"It was last time." They hopped up onto the platform and began to search the area. Planning to take cover behind the raised platform, I moved to jump down onto the tracks. As I quietly put one hand on the platform to slow my jump down, I misplaced my foot on one of the tracks and slipped, causing me to loudly slide my foot against the rubble on the floor. I froze in place to listen if they found me. They were in the central part of the station now so I couldn't see them, but I heard their boots moving towards me. I quickly hid behind the platform and kept still. I could feel each breath quiver as I tried to keep myself as quiet as possible. Their lights skipped around the platform's walls as they approached.

"Come out, whoever you are. We won't hurt you," the leader sarcastically called as they approached. I held my gun close but I didn't want to use it, there was no way that I'd win. Their heavy footsteps split off a little as they searched the area but they still came towards me. It was tough to keep my breathing quiet as I felt myself shaking with nerves. The lights inched towards me until I was suddenly completely illuminated. A hand grabbed my hair and violently pulled me up to the platform as the group's leader said, "Found you."

I dropped my weapon and cried, "Please, no, no, no!" as I was pulled up. They turned me around and put me on my knees to look up at them. The two underlings aimed their AKs at me as the leader put his hands on his sides and looked incredibly proud. My body shook with fright as they sized me up.

"What's a pathetic little shit like you doing away from your mama?" The leader said.

I stuttered and fumbled through my words. "Nothing! Just scavenging."

He looked at one of his men. "Think he's a Hansa spy?"

"I'm not, I swear!" I yelled before he drew back his revolver and hit me across the face with the handle. I cried out and almost collapsed to the floor, but he grabbed my hair again and painfully kept me upright.

He lowered himself to my head height and calmly said, "You will speak when you are spoken to. Understand?" I quickly and frantically nodded. He stood back up and spoke to his men again. "We will take him back. We can figure out an appropriate punishment for this scum later." One of his men nodded, pulled back his AK and struck me across the face as hard as he could with its stock. The darkness quickly enveloped me before I had even hit the floor.


	3. Chapter 3 - Speech

Chapter 3: Speech

Ilia – Day 1 – 13:52

Alex collapsed to the hard floor with a dull thud. I hid in one of the station archways and felt powerless as I watched this unfold. I considered opening fire, but with a simple revolver and only twelve rounds it would have been useless; they would have killed Alex straight away and then hunted me down.

"Check the perimeter," said the apparent leader of the squad. "He might have friends." I waited to see where the other two went before acting. One moved to the other platform whereas the other moved up the stairs on the far side of the station. I couldn't help Alex, I had to hide in case they came my way. Quietly, I darted back the way we came and hid behind the wall where the tunnel split in two to flank the station. I sat against the concrete and remained perfectly still in the darkness as I listened to the distance heavy footsteps of the Nazi soldiers. The two moved down the station and into the tunnels. Realising that they were about to come to my position, I quietly let myself spread out in a natural fashion to make it look as though I was dead. I slumped my head, closed my eyes and left my mouth open as I tried to keep my breathing to a minimum.

The footsteps approached me and shined a light over the area but stopped when they came to my body. One of them pushed my leg with their foot, so I put up no resistance and tried to let it move naturally. "Think this is his friend?" One of them asked.

"Probably," The other replied. "Sure he's dead?" As he said this, a moderately sized spider, about the size of my fist, crawled up my arm and moved onto my neck. The Nazis stayed silent as they watched it move up to my face and near my mouth. I felt the hairs on its legs brush against my skin, willing me to flinch and give my game away. I desperately wanted to get rid of it but knew that it would be a death sentence. The spider irritated my skin as it crawled slowly around my mouth and stopped with one of its large legs was on my eyelid.

"I'd say so," the other voice said. The spider moved onto my cheek as he continued. "Let's report back." The two hurried off back to their superior.

I waited for a couple of seconds before the spider launched a bite into my cheek. My eyes shot open and I tried to withhold the pained sound that I so desperately wanted to make as I quickly smacked the arachnid off my face. It hung on slightly but gave up when it realised that I was indeed alive. Breathing a sigh of relief, I collected my thoughts as the spider scuttled off into the darkness.

I tried to listen to the soldiers but I could only hear them mumbling when they eventually did speak to their leader. They picked Alex and his weapon up and headed back in the direction that they came from. As they left, I quietly rushed out and began to follow them at a safe distance. I couldn't actually see them in the darkness of the tunnels, but I could follow their flashlights. It was difficult to walk on the uneven ground since I couldn't turn my own light on. On multiple occasions, I accidentally kicked the tracks and bits of debris. When they made even the most minute sound, I hid and stayed perfectly still for a minute or so. As a result, the squad's lights slowly left my gaze. The tunnel slowly curved to the right which broke my line of sight with them but I continued to follow the tunnel as there were few other places that they were likely to go.

It was a long walk to their station. I wanted to turn back and not have to face the fascists, but I couldn't leave Alex with them. He was my friend and I needed to save him. I didn't even have a plan of how I was going to get into their station but I figured that I could take a leaf out of Alex's book and improvise based on what I saw.

Aside from a small green door that lit up by a dim red light above it, there wasn't much of interest on the way to Chekhovskaya.

The station's design was very similar to that of Tsvetnoy Bulvar, except that the huge steel hermetic doors seemed to remain closed for the most part. The right-hand door was closed and had nothing outside, indicating that they were never used and so were sealed shut. The other had a guard's outpost outside. Metal barricades flanked the tracks in the centre and four guards in heavy armour stood outside around a couple of campfires and bright oil lamps. I arrived at the station just as the squad of three carried Alex into the station and the guards closed the massive door. I caught a glimpse of the inside of the station; it looked incredibly depressing. The fascist military patrolled the platform and cut off multiple restricted areas. I didn't see a single happy face among the few civilians that I did see. A group of four prisoners, deemed 'freaks' or 'mutants' by the Nazis, were being herded off to some horrible fate.

The blast door closed and the sound of the metal slamming against the metal frame echoed through the tunnel. The guards outside relaxed a bit and sat down on chairs in twos near the fires as I watched them from the shadows.

"What do you reckon they'll do with him?" One of them asked.

"Depends if he turns out to be a mutant or not." The other in their pair began. "Maybe he'll get lucky and just be sent to his death against the Reds, or maybe he'll be executed."

I didn't know what qualified as being a mutant in their eyes, but I desperately feared for Alex's life. From what the guard was saying, he'd either be forced into a war zone or simply be killed. Both prospects terrified me, I knew I didn't have much time to act.

From what I'd learned over my years in the Metro, there were always more ways into a station than simply following the tracks. I backtracked a small way to find the green door that I had found earlier; with any luck, it would provide another way into the station. The door was built into a recess in the tunnel wall, and on the wall next to the door was an emergency gas mask rack. The gas mask present was in good condition, it didn't seem damaged in any way, so I took it and hung it on my belt by the straps. Unfortunately, the filters that should have been present had already been taken, but I kept the gas mask in case I found one later. Gas masks had become expensive in the Metro as they were required to go up to the surface or even to some places in the tunnels, so it was nice to find one for free. Plus, stealing from the Nazis was an added bonus.

I tentatively lifted the latch on the door and pushed it open. The hinges squeaked loudly but I was fortunately far enough away from the outpost for the guards to either not notice or not care. The corridor inside was dimly lit by similar red lights to the outside. I couldn't see much, but I still didn't want to turn on my flashlight.

As suspected, the passage turned to towards the station and kept going. As I reached a door that seemed like it was in-line with the blast door in the main tunnel, I started to hear voices. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but they seemed to be guarding the door from its other side. As I was beginning to think that this was hopeless, I spotted a ventilation shaft near the ceiling of the room and to the left of the door. It was covered up by six thin strips of rusting metal that were welded to the outside of the shaft. The shaft entrance was just above head height so it was a bit awkward to see what I was doing, but I carefully tried to wrench the metal strips off. Without too much effort but a small amount of terrifying noise, the rusting welds sheared off. I quietly discarded them and began to pull myself into the shaft. The metal of the vent amplified any sounds I made so I had to take it as slowly as possible; difficult when pulling my entire weight up into a slippery metal shaft. Thankfully, some of the rust allowed me to get a better grip and I eventually levered myself up into the claustrophobic vent.

I made a mental note of the vague direction that I was to travel in, so that I didn't get too lost in the complicated system, and crawled forward towards the station. The vent was extremely dark, the only light coming from the few places where it split off and led to an opening, so I had to feel the sides to make sure I didn't miss any junctions. This made me run into multiple spider webs and once I put my hand straight onto a rat. It squealed and tried to bite me but it only connected with my sleeve and I managed to shoo it off before it could try again. I remained perfectly still for a while after that, listening to see if anyone else heard it but fortunately nothing came of it. Noises such as rat squeals and the sounds of other living beings were relatively commonplace, so no one paid much attention to them.

After a short while, I reached a junction in the vents. I could either continue straight on or go to the right which led to an opening about a dozen metres away. I followed the right route to see where it came out. I had very little concept of how far I'd travelled, so I thought I'd at least see which side of the blast door I was on. As I got closer to the completely open vent exit, I heard two more voices.

"He looked like a mutant to me, at least. His eyes were really far apart."

"Funny, I thought that they were too close together." I neared the exit but stayed back as the people walked by it.

"No way. How could you think that? There was a huge gap!" They continued to debate this as they walked past the opening and onwards. I tentatively moved forwards to look out of the vent. The area was surrounded by darkness, so I could lean my head out without much danger of being spotted. I was indeed on the correct side of the blast door but not particularly far away from it. How the Nazis left such a gaping hole in their security, I didn't know. Perhaps they didn't care as much since the adjacent station was allegedly empty.

The vent was recessed slightly in the wall and sat next to the track of the left side of the station. The track itself was covered in wooden boxes of varying condition that housed miscellaneous supplies. The two soldiers I had heard were walking down the track, away from the door that I had just circumvented. Through the multiple entrances to the middle section of the station, some of which were closed off by thick metal bars and more supply boxes, I could see a huge crowd gathering under the only slightly lit part of the station. They were all looking towards the far end of the station but I couldn't quite see what. Whatever they'd gathered for clearly hadn't started, though, as the various fascists, most similarly dressed in black uniforms with 'Reich' written across the back, were idly talking to each other in small groups and generally passing the time.

I slowly and carefully lowered myself out of the vent. Making sure that soldiers weren't looking directly at me, I quietly walked across the tracks and hopped up to the platform. The only way that I was going to find out where they were taking Alex was for me to blend in. I eschewed my sneaking, holstered my revolver and confidently strolled up to the crowd just as they began to turn to a stage far at the front of the station. Four heavily armoured and armed guards stood menacingly in front of the wooden stage that was made up of two floors. The top floor was more of a balcony with wooden railings linking to a lectern adorned with the Fourth Reich's banner, the white three-pronged Swastika on a dark grey background; the same banners lined the walls of the central station. Below the balcony stage was the less impressive simple wooden platform on a small amount of metal scaffolding with nothing of note adorning it.

I spotted a gap in the crowd as everyone converged, and moved as far forward as possible without drawing attention, only making it a quarter of the way across the long station before the crowd got too thick for me to get through discreetly. Behind me were stairs that led down to another part of the station which even more people were coming out of and filling the space that I had just left.

A figure walked across the top stage. I was too far away and the lighting was directly above his headwear meaning that it was hard to make out many of his features, but he wore a large black trench coat with black clothing underneath and an officer's cap. Floodlights illuminated the stage as he approached the lectern. Without saying a word, he held his fist out in front of him and the crowd quickly put theirs' to their chests and punched them forwards towards him three times, each time shouting 'slava' at the tops of their voices. I didn't know what was going on, but I followed as best as I could while not shouting as my hand gestures alone were severely out of time with the rest anyway.

The man gripped the lectern and began his impassioned speech. "Soon, my friends. Soon we begin our attack on the mutant-loving Reds!" He pulled out a piece of stained old paper and showed it to the crowd, the writing too small and far away to be legible. "These are the orders from the Führer himself to attack at Lubyanka where they imprison many of our brave soldiers!" Once again, the crowd shouted 'slava' three times and did the same action as I followed their lead slightly better. "Bring out the scum!" He shouted as five young men and one woman were carted onto the stage by two soldiers, all with their mouths covered by electrical tape and their hands tied behind their backs which were then subsequently tied to each other in a line. The soldiers turned them to face the crowd and I immediately recognised the last one; Alexandr. He was in a bad way; severely bruised all over, his clothes were covered in blood, likely his own, and he had a huge black and bleeding eye. He was terrified as he stared down at the crowd that clearly wanted him dead. I tried to avoid him noticing me; if he spotted me and showed some recognition in my direction, I would have been found out and killed. With all of the commotion, I took the opportunity to move through the crowd a little more before I was stopped again when I was halfway to the stage. I noticed a staircase on the far left of this section of the station that led to Pushkinskaya station above.

"These freaks are to be sent at the Reds immediately to test their defences," the man continued. "We will begin our real attack later, where we will crush them, breaking the Red Line once and for all! Hail Reich!" He held his own fist out again as the crowd repeated their chant three times in the same way as before. I followed it a little better this time as I managed to squeeze my way forward a little bit more. I was only a few metres back from the stairs and about seven people from the stage. "You will all be given your duties. Make your Führer proud!" One last time, the crowd chanted and punched the air as I tried to follow their actions.

Alex and the other prisoners were taken up the stairs as people yelled abuse and spat at them. The overzealous leader left the stage to the right and disappeared into the bowels of the station. A nearby man turned to me and said, "Finally; a chance to show the Red filth what we're made of."

I had to try and fit in, so I had to think like a Nazi. "It will be glorious, friend!"

"We will crush them like we have everyone else who has stood in our way." He wrapped his arm around me, patted my shoulder and said, "One day the Metro will be free of genetic impurities. One step at a time. Want to go and see the freaks off?"

Seeing an opportunity to follow Alex, I replied, "Definitely, comrade."

My new acquaintance and I followed the group up the stairs along with a small crowd of people from the speech. The stairs led to the transfer tunnel to Pushkinskaya station. It was long, dim and full of people all going the same way as us.

"Hey, let's go this way," the man walking with me said as he indicated to an open doorway in the wall of the tunnel. "It's a shortcut, we'll get there faster." Not wanting to rock the boat, I simply nodded and followed his lead. We quickly dashed into the corridor and he closed the door behind us. It led to a small dull concrete room, dimly lit by a single orange-glowing bulb in the centre. It seemed to be used as a small storage room for both the resident's belongings and the local rats' shit, but it definitely didn't lead anywhere.

The man pushed my arms together behind my back and held them with one hand as he forced me into the wall with his other forearm on the back of my neck. The side of my face slammed into the hard concrete as a flash of pain surged through my body. The impact cut the spider bite on my cheek a little more and a small amount of my blood imprinted on the wall. He removed his arm from my neck but leant into me with his body as he took out his own revolver and pressed the barrel against my head. He moved his head uncomfortably close to mine and said, "Just who the fuck are you, 'comrade'? A Red spy?"

I found it hard to speak as my face was being pressed up against the wall, but I managed to eke out, "No! No I'm not!"

"If not, then who are you? You're clearly not one of us. You didn't even know how to salute our glorious Führer during the speech." I was silent for a moment, only then realising that I hadn't gotten away with that. "Yeah, I fucking noticed. Talk."

So many thoughts raced through my mind. I tried to think of any way to get out of this situation, but I came up completely blank. Eventually, I settled on telling a limited truth. "I'm looking for my friend. He came through here."

He turned me around to face him and pushed the gun against my forehead. "Do you think that the Gestapo would take kindly to this bullshit? Start telling the truth or we'll see how you fare in the concentration camp."

"It's the truth! I came from Tsvetnoy Bulvar!"

"How stupid do you think I am? That's an empty station." I could see him think for a moment as his eyes drifted away from me. "Unless…" He removed the weapon from my forehead but kept it trained on me as he entered deep thought. His eyes widened as he came to a revelation. "Unless you're from Hans-"

I didn't let him finish. I went for his revolver with both hands, moved it away from my face and pulled his finger off the trigger as I kicked him in the crotch with as much strength as I could muster. His face went bright red as he immediately doubled over and began to gasp for air, completely failing to let any sound escape his mouth. The force of the kick sapped him of any strength and I easily freed the revolver from his grasp. His hands moved down to cover his crotch as he keeled over and fell to the floor. He was at my mercy and I was pissed. I booted him hard in the stomach, causing him to roll in pain, gag and eventually throw up over himself. He looked up at me with fear in his eyes as he tried to scream but was completely unable to.

I lifted my boot up and held it over his face as I said, "Fucking fascists." I launched my foot into the centre of his face, sending into the concrete floor and quickly knocking him unconscious in a growing pool of his own blood and vomit.

His revolver was in good condition, better than mine at least, so I took both it and his holster before I left. I searched some of his pockets, having no problem stealing from a proud Nazi, and acquired nine military grade bullets for myself. Opening the room's door revealed a now mostly empty transfer tunnel, so I left and closed the door behind me, sincerely hoping that no one decided to have a look in there anytime soon. Realising that I was now much later than I had intended to be, I jogged towards the next station and tried to re-join the crowd.

I heard the blast doors begin to close before I made it to Pushkinskaya. "No, no, no," I muttered under my breath as I began to run to the crowd before me, not having a hint of a plan for when I got there. They were standing on one of the station's platforms, watching the door close as it echoed throughout the station and the transfer tunnel. _Shit, too late._

I needed to find another way through but I didn't have a clue how to do so. The tunnel between the Reich and the Reds was one of maximum security, it wouldn't be nearly as easy as the entrance to Chekhovskaya.


	4. Chapter 4 - Subhumanity

Chapter 4: Subhumanity

Alexandr – Day 1 – 14:24

I woke up in a claustrophobic ceramic tiled room, stripped of all of my equipment and under the glow of a dim red light. I was on my knees with my hands tied behind my back. My face pulsed with pain where the soldier had hit it with his weapon. I left my head slumped down and just stared at the floor. A hand grabbed the hair on the back of my head and forcefully tilted it back so that I was blearily looking at the middle-aged man in front of me. He ordered me to stay in place as he raised a large metal calliper up to my sight. He extended it and placed the two cold sharp points on the bottom of my chin and the top of my shaking head before fixing the distance in place, removing the calliper, and measuring the distance with a ruler on the floor.

"Hurry up and measure him. The Sturmbannführer is delivering his speech soon," said another person behind him.

The instrument moved to the tips of both of my cheek bones and he did the same with that measurement.

The man directly in front of me spoke to the other behind him as he continued to feel the shape of my head. "He looks normal. Should we send him off anyway?"

"He's a Hansa spy, isn't he?"

"That's what the squad that found him reported." He stopped what he was doing and looked into my eyes. "Is this true?"

I couldn't respond, I completely lacked the energy. I simply stared at him as my eyelids were willing me to lose consciousness again. The man in front of me slapped me hard across the face but held me in place with his other hand as the second man behind him approached and said, "If you don't answer our questions, we have to assume the worst of you." They waited for a few more seconds, during which I didn't make any attempt to respond, until he eventually continued. "Fine. Tape his mouth and get him to the rest of the freaks. Quickly." The second man left the room through the large metal door on the other side of the small room as the cut a length of electrical tape and covered my mouth with it.

He aggressively pulled me to my feet, which could only just support my weight, and pushed me through the door. Behind it was a similarly decorated hallway with nine other doors that led to more cells like mine. I stumbled and fell into the wall as the man pushed me down the corridor. In the distance, I could hear the aforementioned speech begin. "Soon, my friends. Soon we begin our attack on the mutant-loving Reds!"

As the speech continued, we passed several exits that were being guarded by heavily armoured soldiers and reached the end of the corridor where five other prisoners stood in a similar situation to me. Two of them were women and the rest men. They all looked beaten, bloody and terrified. My captor tied us all together and, when the speech-giver shouted 'bring out the scum,' the two guiding Nazis pushed us forwards and to the left, where we walked up a couple of wooden steps and onto a flimsy wooden stage. We were stopped once we were all on it and turned to look at the huge crowd in the dim light before us. There must have been over one hundred people there, it was terrifying. _How can they all watch this?_ I asked myself. The crowd chanted in unison as they excitedly shuffled around the large station's platform. I frantically looked around the huge room for any way out, but found absolutely nothing.

There was one person in the crowd that I noticed, however. They were making a concerted effort to move towards the front and they didn't seem to be quite in time with the chanting. He looked right at me but clearly didn't want me to notice as he averted his gaze as soon as he saw me looking at him. I stopped listening to the speech completely, I just watched this man move forwards in the crowd. Once he was only a few people from the front, I realised who it was. _Ilia!_ He followed me! A glimmer of hope ran through my body but I desperately tried not to show it; I didn't want to get him found out. He was doing an awful job of blending in, though. One man next to him looked particularly suspicious of him after each chant.

I zoned back into the speech as the 'Sturmbannführer' wrapped it up by shouting, "Make your Führer proud!"

The crowd chanted once more before my captor came up behind me and pushed me forward as he shouted, "Move, scum!" We were ushered off the stage in the opposite direction to the one we had entered in. We moved down the couple of stairs and to the front of the crowd where stairs to the station above led. The crowd yelled abuse at us as we passed, shouting nonsensical insults such as 'twelve fingers', 'no-dick' and simply 'snout fucker'. A man at the front of the crowd spat at me, hitting me on my forehead, as others did the same with thankfully less accuracy. We were pushed single file up the stairs and through the long and dull transfer tunnel that linked Chekhovskaya and Pushkinskaya stations. A huge crowd followed us and threw more insults our way but, fortunately, the guards behind us kept them at bay. I began to wish that I'd listened to the speech, it might have meant that I had some sort of a clue where I was being taken. One of the other prisoners in my line collapsed from fatigue and brought the other two around them to the ground with them. I stumbled but managed to stay upright as I was far enough down the line. Our escorts moved to the point of issue and violently pulled them to their feet with little concern given to the pain they were causing before pushing us all forwards again.

As we approached Pushkinskaya station, we heard the huge blast doors that separated the station and its tunnels begin to open. We rounded a corner and came across the emptier part of the Nazi territory. The middle section had a smattering of guards trying to look busy as they stood near several wooden and metal boxes of various supplies. One alcove contained several open boxes of weapons with a few AKs leaning on them and was guarded by three of the Reich's soldiers. We were led to the right-hand platform where a hand cart was being prepared on the rails. The cart was a simple design; a small flat platform that could seat four on its wooden box seats, two at the front and two at the back, with two handles that had to manually pump to power the cart and extended from the centre to the middles of both sides. A metal mesh sat behind the seats on the front and back of the cart and a small oil lantern sat in the front to light very little. The cart had a flatbed trailer in tow that was full of boxes that seemed to contain food and weapons. The doors leading out of the station finished their long opening process with a metallic crash that echoed through the station. We were guided to a group of four people next to the cart, two officers and two soldiers. The crowd gathered behind us as the officers began whatever they had planned.

"Separate them," one of the officers said, making the two soldiers begin to cut the ropes that bound us together. The officer pointed at me and one of the other men. "They'll drive." Our hands were briefly untied before they were retied in front of us instead. They put a red armband that displayed the Reich's swastika on each of the six of us. "Load them up," the officer ordered once we were bound again. Two of my fellow captives were pushed onto the cart to sit on the far seats, then I and the other rebound prisoner were placed in the centre with the final two next. A couple of them tried to resist but it was completely futile; none of us had the energy to fight back. The two soldiers stood on the small outcropping at the back of the cart and held their rifles with one hand and the metal mesh with the other.

"We are a generous people! The Führer is a generous man!" The other officer shouted to the gathering crowd as we tried to get as comfortable as possible in the cramped cart. "We are granting these mutants a far greater death than they are worthy." _Death?!_ I should have listened to the speech. _What had happened to Ilia?_ Terrible thoughts raced through my mind, I feared the worst. Maybe he had been found, maybe he had somehow joined the Nazis; I was sure that he would have come up with some incredible plan to save me by now if he was still ok.

"Hands on the pump," commanded one of the gruff soldiers to me and the prisoner opposite. I looked up at him and he stared me down. Terrified, I obliged and stood up to grip the handle as the other captive reached down to his; mine was raised whereas my counterpart's was near the floor and they would alternate as we pumped.

"These freaks will die at the hands of the Reds for the Reich. May we all be so lucky!" The officer continued before turning to us. "Go! Now!"

"Pump." The soldier behind me was menacing enough to make me immediately push the stiff lever down with all of my strength. The lever squeaked in an ear-piercingly high-pitched tone as the other captive's lever raised as much as I pushed mine down. The wheels of the cart creaked and stuck as they unseized. We slowly pushed off from the platform as the crowd began to cheer. The other man pushed his side down, causing mine to rise and slightly speed the cart up. After just my second push, I was exhausted. I was already weak and this cart was old and stiff. The other man looked at me with fear in his eyes as he continued. We passed through the blast door and past the outside guard post, where the five soldiers on station cheered and yelled abuse at us. The door began to close as I pushed down the lever again. As we left the boundaries of the station, the dim lighting in the tunnel gave way to complete darkness, minimally mitigated by the pathetic oil lamp at the front of our cart. The two soldiers turned on their weapon's flashlights and began to scan the tunnel before us as we slowly advanced.

We continued for another five minutes until my arms were completely numb and sweat drenched my entire body. Against my mind's will, my body let go of the handle and I slumped down on the seat. The other prisoner's eyes gave me a flicker of fear before he saw an opportunity for a break and followed.

"Did I order you to stop?" One of the soldiers behind me roared. I didn't have the energy to acknowledge him. He leant forward and menacingly said, "Are you tired or something?" I looked up at him and nodded as I unsuccessfully tried to speak through the tape over my mouth. "Do you want a break?" I nodded again. "Do you want me to put your balls in a vice?" My eyes widened and my legs clenched at that prospect. "No? Well get to fucking work!" I leapt up and pushed the lever down with what remaining energy I had as my counterpart readied himself to do the same.

I was dead. I knew it. I was being sent to the Red Line with no weapon, no energy, and not even free hands. There was no way that Ilia could possibly rescue me this time.

. . .

It took us another fifteen minutes of exhausting pumping to reach the point where one of the soldiers told us to slow down. The tunnel split earlier than most others and we found ourselves in an even more claustrophobic environment as we inched towards the Red Line. We were eventually told to stop pumping altogether and the cart slowed to a stop over a long period of time. They'd clearly done this journey a few times before as the cart came to a stop perfectly at a small Reich outpost in the tunnel. Small barricades flanked the tracks and two DShK machine guns had been set up to face the Red's direction. Six soldiers sat in two groups of three on opposite sides with a campfire for each group. As we approached, they stood up and began to remove the supplies for the rear cart.

"Out," said one of the soldiers bluntly. We all obliged and hurried off the cart. I nearly collapsed as I hit the floor that was further away than I originally thought, but one of my fellow captives propped me up with their body. The soldiers followed us off shortly after. "Forward," the same soldier said. We all glanced at each other before taking tentative steps in the direction we had already been heading. We walked in two lines of three with me in the centre-back. "Faster." We sped up as much as we could which resulted in a normal walking pace for healthy people.

The soldiers briefly hung back to talk to the guards at the post as I desperately searched for any way out, I could see everyone else doing the same as well. The soldiers quickly caught up to us and we began to follow the soldiers' lights around. I noticed a few small alcoves formed where the tunnel had collapsed slightly, but nothing major that I could escape though.

"If you're thinking of running," one of the soldiers began, "Remember, you have a chance against the Reds. We won't miss."

After a short time of walking, we were stopped at a door that led to a maintenance tunnel on the right side of the main tunnel. Our escorts aggressively pulled the door open before pushing us in, making us follow their flashlights from the back. It was clear that the tunnel was well-used but not maintained, clearly a less-than-well-known route to Lubyanka for the fascists to use. It didn't take long before we were back in a main tunnel being pushed forwards by the soldiers.

After five minutes of tense walking, the soldiers stopped us. We saw the beginnings of the Red occupation. A small campfire surrounded by decaying chairs sat in the centre of the tunnel. Probably an old checkpoint. The soldiers made us carry on while they stayed a few feet back.

The tunnel was suddenly illuminated by a blinding white spotlight. "Stop!" Yelled a voice in the distance. "Who goes there?!"

We stopped in place and desperately looked around for anything that would help us, but nothing came of it. The Nazis fired their weapons towards the source of the light and shouted, "Run, maggots!"

Deafening return fire came our way as we ran as fast as we could forward and away from the Reich's weapons that had now stopped firing. We spread out and two of us were cut down immediately. I tried shouting but couldn't make it past the tape across my mouth. I ran to the left of the tunnel and looked for any sort of cover as another of my companions slumped to the ground after losing a large chunk of their head to the large rounds being fired at us. Spotting another alcove in the tunnel, I bolted for it, narrowly avoiding bullets that skipped across the floor and flew past my head. The chaos around me faded away into a deafening drone as I focused on nothing but my survival. I completely forgot about the other prisoners, those that I felt some sort of connection with despite only spending a brief and mute time with them.

I collapsed in the alcove and curled up against the wall to make myself as small as possible. Bullets hit the side as they took huge chunks out of the concrete and kicked up dust around me that irritated my eyes and nose as I unsuccessfully tried to break free from my bindings. I even failed to rip the tape from my mouth because it was so tough and my hands were so weak. One of the prisoners darted for my cover but was hit in the leg. She fell over and cracked her head on the metal rail, dying instantly. I averted my gaze and started to hyperventilate as her blood began to pool on the floor.

The firing ceased a minute later. There was a moment of calm before I started to hear two sets of footsteps moving up the tunnel from the Reds' side.

"Oh shit," a young sounding soldier said with worry and regret. "They were prisoners."

"Fucking Nazis," said an older man.

"Are any still alive?" I started to try and make any sound to get their attention. I'd lost the ability to stand on my own feet from a lack of energy, but I made the loudest muffled screams that I could. "Do you hear that?"

"Yes. Keep your weapon ready." The footsteps approached me as the two soldiers came into view. They both wore the standard red-army brown clothing with round metal helmets. They both held similar weapons to my 'Bastard' gun at the ready as they searched around the tunnel and followed my muffled moans to my location.

"Oh my God," the younger of the two said as he rushed over to me. He couldn't have been any older than eighteen; he looked skinny and had the beginnings of a stubbly beard growing. The older man behind him seemed to be in his mid-fifties and had a full grey beard with long grey hair coming down from his helmet. "I'm so sorry," the younger soldier said as he lowered to my level, put his weapon on the ground, and went to pull the tape from my mouth.

The tape stuck painfully to my face as he put some effort into removing it. My muscles tensed and I closed my eyes as it plucked the hairs from the pores around my mouth. With one final tear, he ripped it off as I shrieked in pain and exhaled heavily, finally able to breathe through my mouth.

"Fuck. Thank you so much," I said, not being able to think of much else.

"Are you ok? Are you hurt?" He frantically asked as he untied my hands.

I shook my head. "I'm shattered, but I'm not hurt too badly."

"Good," he said as he pulled out a small water canteen. "Drink this." I thanked him profusely and took a few sips of his deliciously refreshing water. "I'm so sorry for what we did. We thought you were Nazis attacking us."

"I know, I know. That's what they wanted."

"Boris!" The older man snapped. "Leave him and let's go. We can't stay here for long."

He turned his head to look at him. "Leave him? We can't leave him. He has nowhere to go but here or back to the Reich."

"We'll be executed if we take in a prisoner of the Reich."

"We can say we captured a Reich soldier. Look, they gave him an armband, it's perfect! Please, Dad. He needs our help."

The father thought for a tense moment. He looked back and forth between, me, his station, and the distant tunnel before looking down at me and sternly saying, "My priority is my family, understand?" I quickly nodded, hoping that he was going somewhere positive with this. "If we help you, you will not put us in danger." I nodded again. He thought again, before rolling his eyes and saying, "Ok. I suppose we can help."

"I can't thank you enough."

"Thank us later." He turned back to Boris. "Tie his hands back together and get him up. We need to make this convincing." He turned back to me as Boris began to tie my hands back up with the same rope. "Can you act like a Nazi?"

"Hail Führer, death to mutants. Right?"

"Should just about do it."

The two got me on my feet and began to help me stagger towards the bright light of the station's guard post. Some of my strength had come back but I certainly wasn't perfect.

As we approached the station, the two guards that remained shouted to us. "What did you find? Who is this?"

The father shouted back, "Nazi prisoner! Going to take him to Lieutenant Ledovskoy for interrogation."

"He looks like shit. You sure he's a soldier?"

"He didn't look like shit before we got to him."

A bout of laughter came from the tunnel. "You're too much. Come through!" The blinding light turned off and the blast door began to open as we came to the heavily fortified guard post. A combination of metal and sandbag barriers had been set up with a massive DShK machinegun. Ammo and weapons were spread around the post in boxes as well as simply being loose. The two more heavily armoured guards glared at me as we moved between them. They looked at Boris and his father and said, "You've still got a shift to finish. Come back once you've dropped the fascist off." My two guides nodded but didn't break stride. I tried to look menacing but I certainly didn't feel it. My new companions led me through the blast door and into the depressing station beyond.

It seemed as if this station's purpose was incredibly similar to that of my experience in the Nazi's Chekhovskaya. Directly in front of me was the fortified entrance to a collection of twenty tiny prison cells, ten built on top of the other ten, who's prisoners were clearly used to test the Reich's front lines. My nerves were eased when we diverted right to the other side of the station. We quickened our pace and moved into a gap between two poorly constructed storehouses. Boris untied my hands, ripped the armband off me, and whispered, "Ok, we're in. Act like you belong." I nodded and followed them out.

They led me to the living area of the station, where dozens of shanty buildings, made out of any material that could be acquired, were packed in as tight as they could be. Most only consisted of one small room to house an entire family. We walked a short distance down the central path before turning off to an even smaller path where we had to walk sideways to fit. We finally reached a large wooden board that acted as a makeshift door. Boris' father pried it open and revealed a small room, no bigger than ten-foot-wide and fifteen-foot-long. In it was a small table with a dim oil lamp in the centre, four chairs placed around it and an opening on the far side that led to another room. A black-haired woman in her mid-fifties dressed in dirty patchwork clothing was waiting inside and ran to hug Boris' father.

"I was so worried," she said. "I heard the fighting outside. What happened?" She went to give Boris a hug before she noticed me, took a step back, and raised an eyebrow. "Who's this?"

"Let's just get inside," the father quietly said. We all went inside and sat down at the table. "We can't stay for long, but this man was a prisoner of the Reich. They sent some of them at us to make us think they were attacking, this one survived."

"You can't bring him here. It's too dangerous."

"Mr Idealistic over here," he pointed towards Boris, "he wanted to save him."

"He would have died if we hadn't," Boris interjected.

"I'm sorry that we can't stay, but we have to get back to our post. Please, treat him well. We'll be back in a couple of hours." Boris' father kissed the woman on the cheek and began to leave with his son.

I stopped them when they were close to the door to say, "Thank you so much for doing this. I don't know how I can ever repay you."

Boris smiled while the father showed some semblance of happiness before saying, "We'll think of something. Take care."

They left me and the woman alone in their home. She stretched her hand out over the table towards me. "I'm Elena Fedorova, Mikail's wife."

I shook her hand and replied, "Alexandr Stepanov. Nice to meet you."

"What's your story? How did you end up here? You don't seem like the type to be meddling with the Nazis."

"I'm really not the type." I went on to explain the whole story. I didn't consider holding anything back, not even Ilia's name. I was so exhausted and drained that I threw caution to the wind and relinquished any and all information to those that had saved my life. I even told her what station I was from.

"So, you're from Hansa?" She asked once I had finished. I nodded, confused at the thought of that being the most important part of my story. She leant in and spoke even quieter. "What's it like? I hear that everyone's free to do as they wish and there are no restrictions. There aren't even any curfews."

"It's not quite all it's cracked up to be. We're pretty free, granted, but that means that the poor aren't looked after at all. The rich get richer and the poor get poorer. Plus, while members of Hansa can have decent lives, outsiders are very rarely allowed to join us. Hell, we only get to leave our station because we're friends with the door guards." I thought about the station we were in for a moment. "Still, I'd rather live there than most places in the Metro."

She listened and nodded along. "I've always wished to move to a Hansa station. This is such a shithole. At least in Hansa there can be rich people. Here, there's the poor and about three people at the top who can afford to feed themselves. I thought I agreed with Soviet ideals until we were moved here." I listened to her talk but I couldn't think of a response. I tried for a moment after she finished talking but came up blank, partially due to my exhaustion and partially because it was a really difficult sentiment to discuss with a stranger. "Sorry," she said after a while. "I'm just thinking out loud." She stood up and made motions towards the other doorway. "Tea? They say it's from VDNKh, but I don't believe them. It's still drinkable though."

I accepted her offer and she moved into the other room. When I heard her getting frustrated with her cheap gas burner since it wouldn't light, I checked my pockets on the off-chance that the Nazis had missed my wonderful bullet lighter. Somehow, they had. I was overjoyed and happily rushed into the room to give her a hand.

We talked over her mushroom tea for the few hours that Boris and Mikail were gone. She was very agreeable, nothing like I'd imagined those that lived in the Red Line. Back home, we'd always thought of them as being completely obsessed with communism and their leader, General Secretary Moskvin. This clearly wasn't the case. Elena voiced numerous concerns and complaints about the state of the Red Line, from its corrupt leaders to the soldiers' terrible pay that they were heavily encouraged to shoot at their enemies rather than spend on necessities.

Mikail and Boris came back, terrifying the both of us as they wrenched open the 'door' and moved inside to join us. Elena made them tea and we caught them up on everything that we had talked about.

"I assume you don't plan on staying in this station," Mikail said once everyone was caught up. I tentatively shook my head, hoping that I wasn't massively offending them. "Good. You'll only get yourself killed if you stay. I've heard of a man that can help you. Our government has been hunting him for ages since he's been helping refugees escape the Red Line for years. His name's Andrew the Blacksmith and he lives in Kuznetsky Most, the Armoury to most people, which is only a transfer tunnel away. I'm afraid I know no more than that."

"Wow, thank you," I said, astonished at the generosity of this family. "I really can't thank you all enough for everything."

"There's one thing you could do for us," he quickly said with a sense of urgency.

"Anything," I sincerely responded.

"We have a daughter, her name's Sofia." I could see sadness starting to penetrate his outer shell. "She was expelled from the station a few days ago, we weren't even told why. From what we can tell, she probably would have ended up in Kitay-Gorod, a hateful place full of criminals. If you can escape the Armoury, you'll probably have to go there as well. If you do, please look for her and make sure she's safe."

"You have my word. It's the least I can do."


	5. Chapter 5 - Endless Sky

Chapter 5: Endless Sky

Ilia – Day 1 – 14:35

The crowd slowly began to dissipate. Some remained in their groups to discuss the events that had just taken place, but most went back to their various commitments about the station. I stood and stared at the door that I had to get through. There were no unguarded side-routes, no open vents, and seemingly no other way through. There was nothing else for it, I had to find a way to the surface. I'd never been to the surface since the bombs dropped and I'd heard stories of the horrors that awaited even the most prepared the surface travellers, but I couldn't do anything else; I wasn't going to leave Alex to die.

Getting to the surface wasn't going to be easy either, but I felt that I could talk my way past any guards there significantly easier than those guarding the tunnel that led to the Red Line. My first issue would be finding a filter for my newly acquired gas mask. I knew that, whatever I did, I had to be quick. I didn't want to risk my earlier attacker waking up or being discovered. It wouldn't be hard to spot the outsider during a manhunt.

I looked at the group of three guards stationed next to the door to the tunnel. The well-equipped soldiers seemed to have settled into their usual routine of sitting in a vague circle in the middle of their boxes of supplies and idly talking about nothing in particular. Once the officers had left, they stopped taking their jobs quite so seriously and began to simply talk and joke amongst themselves. I noticed that each of them had a gas mask strapped to their waists but no visible filters on their bodies. After trying to nonchalantly walk by the small guard post and glance at their supplies, I saw a filter lying on top of a box beside one of the guards.

One of the guards glanced at me as they noticed my efforts. I had two options, walk off and pretend as if nothing happened or walk up to them and own it. Having to think quickly, I chose the latter and confidently strolled up to the group. They all had stone-faced expressions as they glared at me.

"You guys been on shift for long?" I asked as I began to lean on the waist-high box with the filter on top.

One of them nodded and said, "Yeah. Coming up to six hours now."

"Shit, man. That's rough." I inched my hand towards to the filter as I drew attention away by dramatically reaching into my pocket with the other one. "In the spirit of sending those subhumans off to die, how about I buy you each a drink?" I pretended to struggle to route around in my pocket so that I could stealthily put my hand over the filter. I pulled out six bullets from my pocket and showed them to the guards. "I know you can't have one right now, but have one on me after your shifts." I held the bullets out into the centre of the group as I pulled the filter off the top and held it behind the box, out of their view.

Their expressions changed from mild indifference to a flicker of joy. The same soldier said, "Hey, thanks. Appreciate it." He took two of the bullets from my hand as the other two split the rest.

"Don't mention it. You guys are doing the hard work. Have a good watch." They nodded to me as I quickly walked off, making sure to not let them see the filter. I moved behind a nearby wall to the central section of the station and put the filter into my bag before leaning against the wall and heavily breathing to calm my nerves. A passer-by glanced at me so I quickly composed myself and moved away before I aroused too much suspicion.

I tried to wander around the station but look as though I was walking with purpose as I tried to find a way up to the surface. I spotted the blast door that led to the largest exit to the surface but there were four guards posted at the bottom that were all on attention and glaring at me as I walked by. I decided to walk on and try to find a smaller exit.

Across one of the station's tracks, a set of wooden boards flanked by large boxes led to a discrete door in the station's wall. I recognised the placement as being similar to a maintenance corridor in my home station that led to a ladder to the surface. With any luck, this one would be the same.

I checked around me to make sure that no one was looking before I stepped quietly over the boards towards the door. The boards weren't securely placed so they wobbled and created a lot of noise as I stepped over them. I opened the door, to the soundtrack of the skin-crawling screech caused by its hinges, before quickly darting inside and shutting it behind me. The dull corridor inside was well-maintained, as was much of the station, with just enough lights to allow for good visibility as well as very little loose rubble and debris that normally littered the Metro. A set of three small pipes ran across the wall of the narrow concrete passageway. Knowing that I was likely in something of a restricted area, I pulled out the revolver that I had retrieved from my attacker earlier and held it at the ready. The passageway was claustrophobic as it turned at right angles and split off into several dead ends that were often used for storage of old and decaying equipment.

I came to a heavy iron door with a large wheel lock in its centre, a good sign. The wheel was stiff from lack of use, but after much squeaking and groaning, it finally gave way and began to turn to loosen the door. When I was about halfway through the turning, I heard the door at the entrance to this area slam open.

"The spy could have gone in here!" Someone shouted as they barged in. I'd run out of time, the man I'd left unconscious had been discovered one way or another. I panicked and quickly turned the wheel the rest of the way as several loud footsteps began to move towards me. Once the door was finally loose, I shoulder-barged it open and slammed it shut, spinning the wheel back as quickly as I could. Once it locked in place, I jammed it with one of a few thick planks of wood that was next to the door and turned to find what I was looking for. The ladder to the outside world sat in a tiny room that hadn't been visited in a long time. The walls were collapsing, the rubble hadn't been cleaned, water dripped from melting ice above, and mould covered many of the surfaces. The ladder itself was rusty but looked strong enough to support my weight. Realising that I was essentially outside, I held my breath so that I didn't have to fit the filter to my gas mask just yet and began to climb the ladder as quickly as I could. It was a long ladder that took just under a minute to climb. When I was near the top, the wheel on the door jerked slightly but was stopped by the plank, quickly accompanied by the frustrated shouting of my pursuers.

Above me was a heavy metal grate that led to whatever terrifying things awaited me outside. I tried to push the grate up and it stuck briefly before I broke it free with a loud grunt. It loudly creaked as I flung it open with all of my strength and the cold air rushed in immediately, sending a shiver down my bones. I clambered out, not paying attention to anything around me, slammed the grate shut, and desperately looked around for anything heavy to weigh it down. The grate was surrounded by concrete and discarded cinder blocks, so I quickly took one of the surprisingly heavy cinder blocks and dropped it on the grate. Feeling the desperate urge to take a breath growing, I stretched my gas mask's straps over my head, having to adjust them to fit my head, before throwing my bag on the floor to find my filter within. I panicked when I couldn't find it and I knew that I would have to take a breath soon. As the wooden plank broke at the bottom of the ladder, I found the filter at the bottom of the bag and desperately screwed it into its position on the mask. I took the deepest breath I'd ever taken and fell to the floor, exhausted and relieved.

"Gas masks, now!" One of the voices down below shouted as they rushed into the small room below. I caught my breath, threw on my backpack and rushed away from the grate before actually looking at the surroundings.

I immediately saw the opening to the main entrance of Pushkinskaya station not far from where I was. It was simply a set of stairs in a hole in the main road's pathway surrounded by cracked and broken pavement. The slightly raised concrete that surrounded off the hole was topped with frozen snow with ice forming spears off the side. Behind the entrance was a large, open square. A square plinth stood in the centre that once housed a statue of an apparently famous figure, but the statue had collapsed, broken, and frozen over on the ground below it. It was ruined to such a degree that I had absolutely no idea who it represented.

Surrounding the square were several completely destroyed buildings, all of them once being at least six storeys high. Only their grey, decaying husks remained. None of the square-based buildings had roofs, simply walls of varying height that had frozen over. Building materials from them were scattered; bricks, concrete, cinder blocks, and general miscellaneous rubble had been spread across the landscape. The road that I was in the centre of was cracked and broken all over with ice covering most of the larger cracks where water had gathered and frozen over. Rusting and frozen cars lay across the streets, on the pavements, and dozens in the middle of the road. The biting wind howled through the ruined buildings and my relatively thin shirt, but nothing moved. The overcast sky matched the grey-white landscape and combined to form a miserable scene. It was magical to see it, though. I'd never been somewhere so wide open before. It felt like there was no limit to what I could see.

The grate that I had just come out of jerked slightly as my pursuers tried to open it but were stopped by the weight I'd put on it. Remembering which way that the main tunnel to Lubyanka was heading, I began to weave through the cars to run down the road that I was on as it followed the same general direction.

The road I followed was huge. It was wider than most of the tunnels and had an incredible number of routes that stemmed from it. I passed by a ridiculous number of ruined buildings as I ran through the street. _How many people could have lived here?_ I thought. There must have been more people living on this street alone than in the whole Metro.

After half a minute of running, I heard the cinder block fly off the grate as my pursuers finally forced it open. I hid from view behind one of the many car husks as the two figures emerged. I stayed silent and listened deeply.

"Where the fuck did he go?"

"I don't know. Maybe he didn't come through here."

"And both the door and the grate were blocked, how?"

"I don't know. I just think we're not going to find him."

"He broke Nik's nose and stole Viktor's filter on top of making a mockery of our security. He deserves to die, we need to keep looking."

"I get that, but I don't have the bullets to buy another filter. I can't stay here for long."

"Let's just think about this. Where would a piece of Hansa filth go?"

"Back to the ring? North?"

"Exactly, let's check north. If he's not there, we've lost him."

Fortunately for me, my destination was in the opposite direction to the nearest Hansa station as I was heading for the Red Line. Once I was sure that they were heading away from me, I moved back down the road.

In the distance, I could hear the roars of various creatures, sounds that I had never heard previously. It was a terrifying experience. In the sky, I saw something move; I'd heard about these things before. The flesh-coloured creature flapped its huge wings to support its massive body. It had two more arms and legs, each with sharp claws as well as a large mouth full of sharp teeth. Its small eyes and large nostrils were also very distinctive; it was definitely a Demon. I knew that it would be best to avoid them, especially since I had nothing more powerful than a simple revolver to fight it with. I ducked into a much smaller but still wide side road on my left and hid behind a grey building's decaying wall before the creature could notice me. The sound of its heavy wings beating permeated through the landscape as it scanned its surroundings for prey.

After not hearing it for a few moments, I made sure that my revolver was fully loaded and looked around the corner. It was on top of a building on the other side of the street and looking straight at me. It remained perfectly still, however, so I did the same as I was unsure whether it had actually spotted me or not. After a few seconds of tense staring, it flew up into the air and let out a booming, guttural roar as it flew in my direction. I swore to myself and backed up into the side road before turning around and running as fast as I could. It roared again as it approached and the sound of the air being displaced by its wings as it beat them echoed across the landscape. I looked behind me and found that it was quickly bearing down on me. Seeing no way out, I turned and aimed my pistol at it. Its green eyes with slit pupils stared me down as I aimed and quickly fired three successive shots. I heard the blast echo throughout the city as the first two shots flew straight past the demon, but the third hit it in the chest. It remained seemingly unaffected as the blood spattered across its front and it flew ever-closer.

Realising that this wasn't working, I started to run again and spotted an open apartment block on my right with an arrow hastily carved into the brick next to the doorway. I bolted for it and prayed that I would make it as the beast menacingly roared at me again. As I approached the door, I glanced behind me and found it stretching its legs out towards me, its huge talons aiming straight for me. I ran into the doorway as it clamped down on my side, carving its knife-like claws into me. I screamed out in pain as I was launched into the doorframe from the force of the attack and the sudden impact made me slip through its grasp and deepen the wound. My head collided with the wooden frame and I fell to the broken tiled floor on my back. The demon hit the floor causing an enormous rumble that shook the snow and ice off the surrounding scenery. I crawled back as I fought through the pain so that I could get away from the claws that were frantically trying to reach me through the small doorway. The demon scratched at the floor, completely ripping up the tiles, and desperately tried to fit through the doorway. I saw the wooden doorframe snap as it forced its way through further while roaring and growling in anger. After a few tense seconds of frustrated roaring and reaching for me, the demon beat its wings again and slowly flew off in defeat, leaving me to bleed on the floor of this apartment block.

I groaned as I held my side and could feel the blood seeping out into my clothes and onto the floor. As the adrenaline faded, the intense pain started to kick in and pulse from my side and through the rest of my body. I had nothing to help myself with, I simply lay there and made a futile effort to hold the blood in as it oozed out of the three distinct claw marks. The agony clouded my thoughts and I lost focus on everything but the pain. I peeled the shirt off my lacerations, quietly whimpering as I did, to examine the damage. The demon had left three deep gashes in my side that had covered everything around them in sanguine blood. The open flesh squelched quietly as I took deep breaths. Sweat started to form across my face despite the freezing temperature as I started to overheat.

. . .

I couldn't stay there forever, I had to do something. I was in an apartment block, people used to live there; if there were clothes available, I could temporarily bandage the wound at least. I holstered my revolver and crawled to the wall to plant my hand on it and stand myself up. The pain was intense as the muscles in the wound stretched and pushed more blood out. I stumbled through the decrepit hallway, one hand holding my wound and the other using the wall for support, before reaching its T-junction. Only a few feet to the right-hand side of the junction, the building was completely destroyed. The hall was full of rubble and the sky could be seen through the tiny gaps, absolutely nothing was that way. The left was fairly intact, however. I could see several wooden doors on both sides of the equally narrow corridor that led to old apartments. The first one I tried led to a completely destroyed apartment that had clearly been caught in the same destruction as the entire right side of the building. The second one, however, had an arrow outside the door that was similar to the one at the entrance of the building. I tried to open the door, but it seemed stuck from disuse; possibly from age or the ice-cold temperature. A small amount of shaking it knocked it off its hinges, however, and it fell down with the crash of the wood hitting the tiled floor echoing through the building.

Immediately inside was a living area. A sofa and a television were the centrepieces that were accompanied by faded paintings on the walls as well as small table and chairs next to the walls. The kitchen was through another door but most of the cupboard doors had fallen off and it was generally in a poor condition. Another door led to a bathroom, complete with a broken toilet, a frozen over sink and bath that had been destroyed by a nearby collapsing wall. The final door led to the bedroom that consisted of a wardrobe, a chest of drawers with a faded family photograph placed neatly on it, and a double bed.

The bed was the biggest surprise of the place, however, as it was covered in high-end equipment. There was an AK-74M complete with two full magazines (with thirty rounds in each) as well as two clips of military grade bullets (ten bullets total), a small first aid kit, a small water canteen, and a large and warm olive-green coat. I felt like I had hit the jackpot in this godforsaken place. Alongside all of this was a clean white piece of paper with a note written on it. I sat on the bed, pulled the note towards me, and began to open the first aid kit to tend to my extensive wound.

 _V_

 _I have left this equipment in the hopes that you come here as arranged. We've wanted to abandon the Reich for so long and I'm so happy that we're finally doing it. I desperately hope that you remember our arrangements. You will find this stash and then we will meet in the predetermined place. From there, we will escape to Polis and be free. That filter I left for you back in the station is brand new and was not easy to come by, I hope it serves you well. Good luck._

 _I love you, Brother_

 _If anyone else finds this equipment, I beg you to leave it for my brother. He needs it._

I glanced over the note as I performed my procedure. I peeled my clothes away from my wound and began to painfully wash it with the water and clean it up with the disinfectant and wipes in the kit. The kit's small roll of gauze didn't look like it would be sufficient to cover my large wounds but I managed to just about cover my midriff with it regardless. I fixed the gauze in place with the kit's bandage and pulled my ruined clothes over the wound. It was still pulsing with pain, but I'd at least eased it and it wasn't about to get infected anytime soon. Unfortunately, I'd used all of the water to clean my wound, but I kept the canteen in my bag regardless.

I thought twice about taking the equipment after reading the message, but I figured that I needed it more, so I donned the coat, put what remained of the first aid kit in my bag, pocketed the bullets and one rifle magazine, loaded the rifle with the other, and examined the large weapon. It was in surprisingly good condition, like those given to the highest-ranking soldiers in the Reich, Red or Hansa armies. The wooden grip showed little wear and even the metal had only a few scratches. I checked that the safety worked before pulling the bolt with ease. It even came with a carrying strap. How this person had gotten hold of a weapon such as this was beyond me.

I replaced the rounds that I had fired from the revolver, leaving me with three spare, slung the AK over my shoulder, and moved off. Standing up proved painful as it stretched the wound, but I pressed on, stabilising myself with doorframes and walls to make it through. As I exited the apartment, I realised that I would have to suck up the pain if I was going to survive in this place, especially if that demon came back. I carried on down the corridor, not bothering to check the other apartments as I wasn't sure how much longer I had left on the filter that I had stolen from the door guard.

The apartment block's corridor was long, dreary and deteriorating; several walls had collapsed, most of the doors were off their hinges, and none of the glass in the windows remained. I thought that the Metro tunnels were poorly maintained, but this was on another level. I rounded a sharp corner and found that the building had completely collapsed, leaving only the main four walls standing around a mound of rubble and revealing the ruined and frozen city through the glassless windows. I could see several of the building's floors that had collapsed and broken on the bottom next to me and each wall was topped by a layer of icy snow.

Cautiously looking around for any hostile creatures, I stepped onto the rubble, briefly slipping on a loose rock before finding my footing and slowly climbing up it, trying not to put too much stress on my wound, and began to move towards the outer wall in the direction I believed to be towards Lubyanka. I reached one of the windows that I planned to exit out of and onto the street beyond. In the distance, I heard dozens of creatures howl in unison. The howls were nowhere near the sound of the roars of the demon earlier so I had no idea what to look out for. I stayed behind the wall and listened out for anything. Nothing happened, however. The air was completely still in the dead city. I readied my AK and looked outside but saw no movement whatsoever. Tentatively, I stepped outside and clambered ungracefully down the building's rubble to the path below. I frantically checked my surroundings – any side roads, inside buildings, on top of buildings, in the sky – but found nothing.

Holding my weapon tight, I crossed the street and entered into a narrow road that was in the vague direction that I wanted to go. The building at the end stood relatively proud and defiant of its surroundings. It was damaged and deteriorating, but it wasn't nearly as bad as everything that surrounded it.

As I approached it, I glanced behind me and spotted a creature in a window of a building at the end of the road I had just come from. The slightly furry creature was just a bit larger than me as it stood on its hind legs and stared at me with its small, dark eyes. Its sunken mouth was bearing its misaligned teeth as it tracked my movements. It didn't do anything but watch me and only move its head to follow my movements. I backed off towards the end of the road but kept my eye on it until I rounded the corner. The creature remained completely unmoved, so I began to jog around the intact building towards its front. As I walked along the side, I realised what the building was. I'd seen pictures of it back home since it was once was a proud feature of Moscow; The Bolshoi Theatre. The Reds had even created their own version of it in the nearby Teatral'naya Station that I wanted to visit someday, but I had to keep moving.

I looked to my right, in the direction that I wanted to be going, but found another of the creatures in the ground floor window of one of the buildings opposite the theatre. Looking back from where I came from, the previous creature inched around the corner and stopped to stare at me. Neither of them moved, so I moved up the street in the opposite direction, my nerves starting the get the better of me. My heart was pounding as I briskly moved away from them and hoped to find safety somewhere. I longed for the relative safety of the tunnels, where the sky wasn't an endless danger and I understood where the threats would come from.

I reached an intersection and saw more creatures in the buildings surrounding me. Starting to believe that they weren't a threat, I moved to the right-hand street and kept an eye out for any exits. Looking back, I saw upwards of ten of the creatures gathering in the road behind me. Getting nervous again, I jogged into a nearby shop front just to break line-of-sight. It looked as though it was once a clothes shop as mannequins were scattered on the floor and frozen in place with clothes spread across the destroyed tables and the half-standing front desk. I slipped and briefly lost my balance on an iced-over T-shirt on the floor before barging through the back door into the shop's storage room. Several lines of clothes racks were scattered across the large room which would have been in complete darkness had it not been lit up by the complete lack of a roof on the large building.

The same howls echoed through the landscape, but closer this time. They sounded like they were right outside. Footsteps came charging towards my position. I panicked and looked for anywhere to hide before running back into the shopfront and diving behind the counter, causing my side severe pain, and crawling under its countertop. I put my AK to the side as it was too large to be useful here and pulled out my revolver to aim it towards the side of the counter.

The numerous footsteps thundered towards me. Some of them ran straight past the shop but an unfortunately large proportion bolted into it. A couple of them slid clumsily into the front of the counter, dislodging much of the ice on top which fell down onto me and shattered. They ungracefully bolted through the door, some pushing the others into the doorframe to do so first. One by one, they all went through the door, apart from the last. It slid to a stop just in front of the doorway and sniffed the air around it as its brethren ran off. I aimed my revolver but stayed perfectly still and stared as it glanced around the room and rested its gaze on me. It slowly approached with its heavy footsteps and seemed to be unsure as to whether I was alive or not. I tried to keep my breathing to a minimum as it stared me down and advanced. I noticed its eyes widen, it began to move to stand on its hind legs and it opened its mouth to howl. It knew I was alive.

I fired two shots at its head, the first hitting it in its large open mouth and the second hitting its neck as its head jolted back. The shots echoed across the city and I bolted upright to run. The creature slumped down and died in a growing pool of its own dark blood as I slung my AK over my shoulder, scrambled over the counter and ran through the glassless window of the shopfront. I heard howls coming from the area that the horde had run to so I upped my pace and ran as fast as I could down the road outside and sprinted for the next side road. I saw the horde exiting the shop as I looked behind me. They took a small amount of time to catch their footing as they collided with each other and fought to be first, but they were quickly bearing down on me.

I turned into the side road to break line-of-sight and find a place to hide. I was terrified when I saw no potential spots, but I came across a building that contained the entrance to a Metro station. _Perfect!_ I couldn't tell where it led but I didn't care.

The entrance was two archways that were mostly blocked with rubble. One of them had a roughly human-sized gap though, so I charged ahead and just about fit through as the horde came to the side road behind me. I holstered my revolver and ran for the escalators, quickly running down them as I yelled for help to the blast door at the bottom. I used the decaying rubber handholds of the escalator to help me jump over a gap in the steps and nearly lost my footing but managed to balance myself and keep going as the creatures entered the building. I made it to the bottom and collapsed on the floor next to the door, knocking my AK off my shoulder and onto the floor, and slammed the door with my fist as hard as possible while yelling, "Help! Please!" as loud as I could. The door started to creak as the mechanism within moved but it wasn't happening nearly fast enough.

I grabbed my rifle, flicked the safety off and fired up at the creatures halfway down the elevator. The power of this weapon was immense as the recoil forced it upwards, but a single burst killed a couple of them as they collapsed and tripped up another one that came tumbling down. The door began to open towards me, so I had to get up and rush forwards out of the way while firing at the approaching army and continuing to yell for help. The creatures were fearless. I finished off the tumbling one and moved over to another group where I missed most of my shots but landed a few decent hits. One of them leapt at me, but I just managed to dodge out of the way as it collided with the door. I quickly turned my sights on it and executed it as it tried to stand back up.

I kept firing my weapon in bursts, flooring a surprising number of these creatures, until I heard the multiple terrifying clicks of the empty magazine. I panicked and glanced between the weapon and the horde, having no idea what to do and freezing completely under the pressure. One of them leapt from near the bottom of the escalator straight at me as it stretched its arms and claws out to me, roaring as it went. It collided with my chest and took the breath out of me as it launched me towards the wall next to the slowly opening door. I hit the solid wall and cried out in pain as it put all of its weight into my chest, trapping me against the hard wall. It reared for another attack, but its head was suddenly blown back as the room flashed yellow and its blood sprayed across the wall by its side. An armoured man rushed out of the small gap in the opening door and fired his shotgun multiple times at the horde, dropping a few of them. He was quickly followed by another with an AK and together they kept the creatures at bay as a third person grabbed me by my collar and pulled my dazed body through the door and into safety. The ensuing action was a blur as the person pulled me in and sat me up against the nearby wall before rushing out to help their friends.

It didn't take long for them to finish the job. The gunfire stopped in an instant and, after checking that the area was clear, they walked through before the slow door had even fully opened. The three of them all wore similar armour despite it looking homemade. It tended to consist of simple metal fashioned into a chest piece with a rudimentary combat helmet and a small amount of leg protection over their normal clothes.

One of them, a man slightly older than me in his mid-twenties, crouched down in front of me with a concerned expression as the others began the process of closing the doors. He took my gas mask off my head and asked with a soft and calming voice, "Those watchers are nasty. Are you ok?" I was still in shock from the whole encounter but, as I started to gather my thoughts, I could feel my side begin to hurt again as well as the cuts and bruises that had now formed on my chest and back from the encounter. I realised that I was still gripping onto my rifle and had pulled it through the door with me. I finally let go of it to open my coat up a bit and saw a small amount of blood seeping through the clothes underneath. "Wow, you're lucky we got to you."

I nodded and managed to eke out a, "Thank you," as I tried to suck up the pain.

"Listen, we can get you to someone that can help, but you don't want to stay here for long." I looked back up at him and quietly asked why; they seemed friendly enough to me. "Do you know where you are?" I shook my head. "Kuznetsky Most, or The Armoury as people like to call it. Technically, we're a free station, but the Reds have a lot of power. You don't have papers here; they could arrest you."

 _I'd made it to Armoury._ This was oddly good news. The Armoury was joined to Lubyanka Station, if Alex had managed to escape, he would surely end up here. And, while I didn't fancy making the trip to the gulag that was Lubyanka station, it wasn't impossible to go there and look for him. It struck me that I didn't think to head straight for Kuznetsky Most in the first place, it would always have been much easier to get into than Lubyanka. I had heard of the troubles that Armoury faced, though. It housed a large number of engineers that manufactured a lot of the weapons in the Metro for many of the factions. It was technically a free station, but since it was linked with Lubyanka, a Red controlled station, it was kept under a watchful Red gaze.

The man before me glanced back up at his colleagues. "Should we get him to The Blacksmith? He can keep him safe for a while." One of them simply nodded and moved over to me. They hauled me up and placed my arms around their shoulders to help me walk with them. Exhaustion was slowly getting the better of me and I drifted off multiple times during the journey.

. . .

As I was becoming conscious again, I heard someone different say, "Get him inside, I've got him." I felt myself being gently lowered onto a small bed. I opened my bleary eyes and found the two people from the door standing over me.

I quietly said, "Thank you."

"Don't worry about it. We brought your AK too." The younger man smiled and rested it up against the flimsy bedside table and stepped back.

I involuntarily closed my eyes again and opened them later to find only one man looking at a map on the wall just above me. He wore a hood that covered his short, greying hair with a brown leather coat and a grey undershirt. He was clearly well-to-do since he had glasses that were actually functional and a neatly trimmed beard around his mouth.

He saw me stirring and looked down at me to say, "Ah, you're awake. You've been out for a while."

My throat was completely dry and it was hard to speak, but I managed to croak out, "How long?"

"A few hours." _A few hours?_ Alex could be anywhere by now, maybe even dead. "Your friends cleaned up your chest wounds and had a look at that nasty set of claw marks on your side. Everything seemed as fine as they could be. Your chest is painful but shouldn't have any lasting effects. Your side will definitely have lasting effects, but you managed to get it wrapped pretty well."

"Christ. Thanks for taking me in." I glanced around and found myself in a tiny dirty room. It only contained the small bed that I was lying on, a rickety wooden bedside table with a small clock and my AK leant against it, a small shelf with a couple of books weighing down my coat hanging from it as well as a small water canteen, next to a currently closed sliding door.

"It's fine. Wouldn't want you being arrested by the Reds and sent off to Lubyanka. I'm Andrew by the way."

"Ilia," I replied as I began to sit up on the bed.

Andrew held his arms out and protested, "Whoa, you don't want to move too quickly now. You've been through a lot."

"You don't understand," I said as I eventually sat on the side of the bed, feeling the pain throb through my body from my multiple wounds. "I'm looking for a friend. He could be dead if I wait for too long."

"Did he come through here?"

"Last I saw he was being sent to die at Lubyanka by the Nazis." He gave me a concerned look. "I know that he'd be insanely lucky to make it, but I have to keep looking until I know for sure. I can't just leave him." I felt myself sadden as I spoke about him. As much as Alex irritated me, I missed him deeply. He was always better at coming up with the ideas than me, he probably would have found a much better way through the tunnels than using the surface. I looked at the floor and continued. "I've known him for so many years. I don't want to lose him."

He thought for a moment. "I usually don't disclose information about people that I help but…" He looked away as he thought to himself. "What was your friend's name?"

"Alex." I quickly remembered that he wouldn't be as familiar with him as I was. "Alexandr."

"Alexandr Stepanov?" My eyes widened as I quickly nodded up at him and felt the first glimmer of hope since Alex and I had left our station. "He came through while you were unconscious, asking for a way out of the station."

I sat forward but winced as my wounds flared up. "Where did he go?"

"I got him heading for Taganskaya station since he said he's from Hansa. There's a maintenance tunnel that goes around the Red-controlled door to the tunnel to Kitay-Gorod. From there, he's going to make his way through the tunnel to Taganskaya. I gave him some of my equipment before he left."

"Holy shit. I need to follow him. Can you show me where he went?"

"In a while, young man. You need to stay where you are for now." I pushed myself up to get off the bed but stopped halfway when I made a small, high-pitched moan as my demon wound pulsed and forced me to sit back down. "Look, you're safe here for now. You need to get your energy back and get yourself to a point where you can walk without howling like one of your watchers." He reached for the metal water canteen on the nearby shelf and handed it to me. "Have a drink, eat some food, and rest. Alex is ok and on his way to Hansa, don't worry."

I obliged and drank out of the canteen. "But what if something happens to him?"

"Something will happen to you if you go now. He can take care of himself."


	6. Chapter 6 - Support

Chapter 6: Support

Alexandr – Day 1 – 17:01

Before beginning my tense move through Lubyanka, I thanked the Fedorov family profusely for their hospitality and instructions on how to get to Kuznetsky Most. I managed to stealthily swipe an old discarded leather overcoat from the floor. Despite its terrible condition with its numerous holes and severely flaking leather, it still made me look less suspicious as it covered up my bloodstained clothes as well as the rope burn on my wrists. To fit in with the few civilians in the area, I walked with purpose and looked absolutely no one in the eyes.

The slums that were the residences of the station were cramped and disgusting. They seemed to just house the soldiers and their families that worked there, but I couldn't fathom the poor conditions that their superiors left them in despite the fact that they were supposed to be working 'for the glory of the Red Line.' I was propositioned by several deathly poor women with nothing else to turn to; their efforts to look sexy for the men were thinly veiling resentment and sorrow at their situation. I felt terrible that I didn't have any bullets to give to the poor people just to help them through. It made me realise that we had a pretty decent life at my home of Novoslobodskaya.

The narrow slums opened into a more militarised portion of the station. Poorly equipped guards stood among endless boxes of supplies disorganised and stared me down with a mistrustful gaze as I passed them.

The escalators down to the transfer tunnel leading to Kuznetsky Most were before me. In my way was a guard post that dictated who could enter and leave the station. Four guards were present and had set up wooden barricades to block the area off with only a small gap for entry. A woman was at the entrance arguing with the guards. She looked oddly well-to-do despite the station she was in. She had neat and short red hair with a clean black leather jacket and blue jeans, she was certainly a strange sight in Lubyanka.

"How dare you fucking keep me in this shithole?!" She screamed at one of the guards. "I came through here not two hours ago and you're telling me that I can't fucking leave?!"

"You don't have the correct papers," he responded in frustration, clearly repeating himself. "I cannot let you through."

They continued as I approached and waited behind her, not having much of a plan for when it was my turn. "Bullshit! I was given these by your fucking Lieutenant. Ledov-shit or whatever." She waved a bunch of papers in his face too fast for him to read.

"Then you'll have to go back to him and get the _correct_ papers. My hands are tied."

"I'll tie your balls to a demon if you're not careful! You know full fucking well that he won't admit to making a mistake like this. I'm supposed to be meeting a supplier so that we can make guns for _your_ fucking army." She looked around in a strop and noticed me standing behind her. She grabbed my arm and aggressively pulled me up to her. "Let us fucking through. If we're not there now, you're not getting any more of the guns that you so desperately need!"

"Who's this guy?"

"My boss, you fucking morons!"

"Does he have the correct papers?"

"He has the same fucking papers as me, of course!"

"Can we see them?"

I started to get nervous, I had no idea what I had just been dragged into, but the woman continued the arguing. "What's the point? Just let us through!"

I thought that this was the only way I could hope to get through, so I tried to become her character. "Look," I began sternly, "We've got to get through now. We can get the correct papers later. Let us through or we'll tell Lieutenant Ledovskoy about your insolence and I'm _sure_ he won't like that." I sincerely hoped that this Ledovskoy character was as ruthless and unfair as I imagined a Red Army Lieutenant to be.

The guard shuffled uncomfortably and was visibly dismayed by the thought. He turned and whispered to his colleagues before turning back to us. "Fuck it. I don't need this shit. Just go." He moved out of the way and sighed deeply. "Just don't mention it to anyone."

"About fucking time," the woman snapped as she barged through.

I scowled at the guard as I walked by and said, "Good decision," as menacingly as possible. I followed the woman down one of two open escalators, the other two being blocked off by multiple destroyed and deteriorating boxes.

Once we were out of earshot, the woman turned to me and said, "Sorry for getting you involved in that back there. You looked lost and I saw an opportunity to get through without any papers."

"No problem, I wouldn't have gotten through without you anyway. I thought you had papers of some kind from Ledovskoy?" She took the papers she was holding earlier and passed them to me while quietly chuckling. They were simply hastily scrawled documents that she'd clearly written herself in terrible handwriting. One of them literally said 'Galina is ok to enter.' "Fair enough," I responded as I handed her rubbish documents back. "So, was anything you said true?"

She laughed and said, "My name _is_ Galina."

I raised an eyebrow at her and asked, "Is it really?"

She let out a small chuckle. "It's what I tell people, at least. You see, I've learned that you actually need to give very little real information if you kick up enough of a fuss."

I lightly laughed. "Noted. I'm Alex. What have you got going on in Kuznetsky?"

She thought for a moment. "I'd prefer not to say. I'm sorry, but I don't know you." I nodded along as we reached the bottom of the escalator and began to move down the decrepit but empty transfer tunnel. "What's up with you? No offence, but you look like shit."

"It's a long fucking story involving my best friend and Nazis, followed a ridiculous string of good luck."

"You and I clearly have very different definitions of good luck."

"When you've been arrested by the Reich and sentenced to death, your view on the world changes a little."

"Shit. Sounds like you've had a tough time." She thought to herself for a moment as she reached into her pockets. She stretched her arm out to me and held out two clips of five bullets each. "For your help. You look like you could use the money and I'm grateful for you going along with my scheme."

"I can't take that. I wouldn't have got through the border without you there."

"Just take them." She shoved the bullets into my coat's pocket. "You don't look like you have much and the Metro is cruel to people without money."

I didn't protest her stuffing the ten bullets in my pocket, instead saying, "Thanks. I appreciate it." I realised that she might know something about this station and that I should take the opportunity to fish for information. "You wouldn't happen to know a man called Andrew who lives here, would you?"

"I've heard of him. Lives in the engineering area I think. I hear he's a nice guy."

I thanked her as we reached the guards at the end of the tunnel. They simply nodded and welcomed us to the free station beyond. The station was much cleaner and better put together than Lubyanka. The shelters were larger and better constructed, people seemed happier and the floors were generally much cleaner. It was also a busy station with voices forming a continuous backing track to the many goings on of the people all around us.

"Those guards seemed alright. Why is leaving here such an issue?" I asked, confused at all of the fuss.

She spoke in slightly more hushed tones. "Those guys just assume that the first set of guards okayed us. The Reds keep a close eye on who leaves the station. It appears free, but it seriously is not. You'll want to leave discretely. Trust me." We moved slightly further into the station before she spotted the route to wherever she was going. "Right, this is where I leave you." She shook my hand as she continued. "Thanks for your help. I hope you get home safely."

"Thank you. You're far too kind for this world."

She gave me a mischievous grin. "You clearly don't know much about me."

We parted ways as I tried to find my way to the engineering area. I entered into the more residential area. The passageways were much wider than those in Lubyanka, although still not nearly as clean or well-maintained as my home station's. I glanced into a few open doors and saw a few families in large living rooms around their tables. They looked relatively happy but there was a definite tension in the station. I couldn't put my finger on why, but people seemed guarded and untrusting in some way. A group of Red Army officers barged past me as they glared and watched over the people in the station. The tension was palpable.

I saw a few quick blue flashes across the station that sounded like they were the result of distant welding. It called to me as the engineering district of the busy station. Trying to ignore the watchful eyes of the Reds, I headed for it and hoped that Andrew would be easy to spot despite his extremely secretive business.

Different people's belongings had been walled off by metal fences where they'd put their possessions in large wooden boxes. These came together to form a complicated pathway through the area that one could easily get lost in. Many busy people walked through me without breaking stride as they hurried to their clearly important destinations. Cranes moved supplies and sometimes entire rail carts overhead in the high-roofed station. Buildings constructed out of scrap metal and wood flanked the central station as they were built on tracks and extended to just outside the station dividers. I glanced across the many doorways but couldn't see anything that resembled anything particularly special. I didn't dare ask anyone if they knew this Andrew person, just in case they turned out to be with the Reds; I didn't fancy getting arrested again.

I managed to wander completely through the engineering part of the station and came across the huge blast door that led to a way up to the surface. I was about to turn back and keep looking when I heard the three door guards chatting quietly amongst themselves.

"The Blacksmith's pretty great, isn't he?" Began the youngest of the three. "Puts his life at risk just for some guy that came from the surface at death's door."

"Yeah. I don't know how he hasn't been caught yet. He's helped so many people."

I rushed up to them and excitedly asked, "The Blacksmith, is that Andrew?"

The youngest acted defensively and said, "What's it to you?"

"I'm not Red. I need his help. Please."

The three sized me up as I stood there pleading before the youngest spoke up again. "We're not willing to put him at risk for some random guy eavesdropping on our conversation."

"Look, if I was a red spy, wouldn't I have just arrested you lot for talking about him? Also, do I look like a fucking red spy?" I gestured to my awful clothes and multiple cuts and bruises before reaching into my pocket and pulling out one of the two bullet clips that Galina had given me. "I can pay you if you tell me where he is. I need to get out of this station safely."

They all looked at each other before the younger one tentatively said, "Right. Ok. I guess I can take you to him. If there's any funny business though, you're fucked. Understand?" I quickly nodded and thanked him as I held the bullets out towards him. He pushed my hand away and said, "Save it for Andrew. He's the one you'll be thanking." He led me back through the engineering area and to a nondescript wooden door. He knocked on the door three times before waiting for a few seconds and knocking two more times in quick succession. Several locks were undone on the other side and the door slid open to reveal a middle-aged hooded man. "This guy says he needs your help," said the guard. "Hope that's ok."

Andrew beckoned me in while saying, "Of course, that's fine. Come in." I thanked the guard and obliged. Andrew slammed the door shut behind me and locked it back up with four chain locks. The room I found myself in was nothing impressive. It had a small table in the corner with two chairs, a detailed map of the metro on the wall, a few small shelves, and a bookshelf on the far wall with a set of shelves below it containing an oil lamp, several bottles of alcohol and various food tins. On one wall, there was another sliding door with a large wooden panel hastily placed over it in an attempt to disguise it as part of the wall. It looked as though it could disguise the door well, but he didn't have quite enough time to place it properly.

"So, who are you and what do you need?" He quickly asked as he gestured for me to sit at the table.

I sat down as he did the same. "My name's Alexandr Stepanov. I recently managed to escape my death at the hands of the Reich and I'm looking for a way out of this station. I have bullets, I can pay."

"Where are you hoping to go?"

"Anywhere that's not here, really." He let out a small laugh before I continued. "But preferably somewhere Hansa controlled. I can get back to Novoslobodskaya from any Hansa station relatively easily."

He thought for a moment as he turned to look at his map of the Metro. It had rough scribbles all over it where smaller and lesser-known tunnels were marked as well as which factions owned which stations and particularly dangerous places. "I might be able to get you to Taganskaya." He turned back to me. "You can get to Kitay-Gorod from here and from there the tunnel to Taganskaya isn't too bad. The tunnel to Kitay-Gorod is very dangerous, but there's a nice side tunnel that few people know about. You can use that."

"That sounds brilliant, but how do I get there from here if the station is as Red-controlled as I hear?"

"I know a way past the guard posts that leads straight to this tunnel. You'll be fine." He stood up and moved to the 'hidden' door. He moved the board to one side and slid open the door. I couldn't see inside and he told me to stay put since someone was resting in there and he liked to keep his people's identities as secret from others as possible. I understood that, so I pushed my nosiness back and remained in my seat.

He returned moments later with a large metal box that he placed on the table. Opening it in such a way that I couldn't see what was inside, he routed through it for a second before pulling out a gas mask complete with a filter in good condition, a small water canteen with a karabiner clip, a small flashlight, and an imposing double-barrelled shotgun. It was clearly made in the Metro out of whatever they could find, but it was still decent quality, even going so far as to feature a carrying strap and a spring-loaded stock so that it could be extended to fit the user's preference. The two triggers that fired each barrel seemed in good condition as he tested them out while the weapon was unloaded. The wooden stock also had a leather bandolier affixed with six spare shotgun shells held in bullet loops. He put down two extra shells and loaded them into the shotgun barrels. "You seem like you've had it rough. I want you to take these."

"I'm sorry, but I can't pay for this much stuff as well as all of the information you've given me."

He put the dirty palm of his hand out towards me and shushed me as he closed the box up. "I don't expect payment for this, especially from someone who's had to tangle with both the Reich and the Reds in one day."

"At least let me give you something."

He took the box off the table and began to move it back into the other room. "Nonsense. I'm just happy to help." He closed the door and carefully put the wooden board in the way, very effectively disguising it. "Come on, we should get moving before they do a paper inspection."

I fastened the gas mask and water canteen to a couple of belt loops in my trousers beneath my overcoat, tucked the flashlight into a pocket, and put the shotgun's strap across me while slyly leaving him five bullets on the table. I knew that it wasn't much, but I had to give him something and he wasn't going to willingly let me pay him.

We left the building and moved briskly back through to the marketplace of the station. Stalls lined the sides of the pathway with people peddling all manner of things. Being the station dubbed 'Armoury', most of them were selling weapons, weapon attachments and ammunition. Other vendors sold food, drink and, curiously, postcards. I stopped Andrew because I realised that I hadn't eaten in a long time and I was incredibly hungry. From one vendor, my five remaining bullets bought me a small meal of the 'best' cuts of two rats with a small amount of almost tolerable pork.

We continued on and came to a large gathering of supply crates. He glanced around to check that no one was nearby before recruiting my help to push a large crate out of the way. I didn't feel particularly strong, but we managed to move it together and revealed a very narrow pathway.

"In there you'll find a door, it leads to both the surface and the tunnel you want. You'll take the first right once you're in, that leads to the tunnel; straight on leads to the surface. You really don't want that."

I absorbed the information and shook his hand. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Just go. We can't be here for long."

I obliged and quickly walked through the supply boxes, having to turn slightly to fit through the extremely narrow gap. He closed up the path as I came across the desired metal door. It was stiff and squeaked painfully loudly as I pushed it, but I got it open and darted into the dull concrete passageway before closing it behind me.

The corridor clearly hadn't been used in some time. Cobwebs covered the corners where the ceiling met the walls and the floor was littered with pieces of crumbling wall. The whole area was barely lit in an orange glow by the weak bulbs hanging from the ceiling, most of which weren't working anyway. The passage turned a few times before I came across the junction that Andrew had mentioned. I turned to the right and carefully moved down the narrow tunnel with my new shotgun at the ready.

When I was further down, I started to hear two voices.

"I can't believe we got stuck with this boring shit."

"Rather be here than at the main door."

"True, but I don't even get what we're doing here."

"Were you not paying attention in the briefing?" There was a brief pause followed by a deep sigh. "Our guys found that the Blacksmith uses this tunnel to help refugees escape and we're supposed to arrest them if they try it."

I panicked a bit and backed off. I definitely didn't want to go through them. I thought for a moment about what to do and considered going back the way I came and finding a different way out of the station.

"When's the other team getting here? Shouldn't they be here by now?"

"Yeah, they should be here soon."

 _Shit._ I was going to be sandwiched between them and the relief team if I didn't act fast. I could no longer go back the way I came as I could easily run into them. I desperately didn't want to, but I headed back and moved down the passageway that led to the surface. I quickly moved through the twisting hallways, up a small ladder as well as some stairs that eventually led to a large iron wheel-locked door. In a panic, I turned the wheel as fast as I could, pushed the stiff door open and closed it behind me. I found another ladder before me that led straight to the surface, so I donned my gas mask and quickly climbed up, pushing the grate at the top out of the way and clambering the frozen surface.

The light briefly blinded me but, through covering my eyes with my hand, I slowly got used to it and found myself in the centre of a huge open road in between several massive decrepit buildings. The beautiful endless sky was covered in grey cloud, shrouding it in mystery. I could hear the wind howling through the ice and snow covered buildings. The road nearby had broken and sunk into the earth, exposing underground pipes and forming a small frozen lake. The cold wind was biting as it passed effortlessly through my old clothes but I ignored it and just stared at the solemn beauty of the surface. It was a freedom that I had never felt before, anything was possible.


	7. Chapter 7 - The Dark Tunnel

CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains a scene that some readers may find a bit distressing. No graphic descriptions, but it's there.

Chapter 7: The Dark Tunnel

Ilia – Day 1 – 18:22

I scraped my spoon across the bottom of the enamelled bowl to collect the last dregs of the stew. I didn't dare ask what was in the food Andrew had given me because, in my experience, it was better if you didn't know what you were eating; I was just happy to have some hot food. I'd spent some time recuperating so that I could eventually follow Alex. My side was still in constant pain, but I was getting used to it by this point. I looked at the clock and felt that I couldn't leave my journey any longer.

"I have to say," Andrew began as I finished up my meal, "you're strangely well-equipped for someone in your situation."

"I don't exactly have a problem with stealing from Nazis," I replied quickly, deciding not to tell him where I'd actually got most of my equipment from. With Andrew's help, I slowly stood up and began to get my equipment together.

"Can I ask why Alex means quite so much to you?" Andrew asked as he stood in the doorway and watched. "There aren't many people in this world who would go to these lengths to help someone."

Reservedly, I replied, "You know, he's a friend." As I searched through my coat and bag, I was thankful to find that everything that I had stored away was still in place.

"Been through a lot together?" Andrew persisted.

I pulled the empty magazine out of my AK and replaced it with the single full one I had left. I ignored the question and changed the topic. "How much do I owe you for everything you've done?" I loaded two rounds into my revolver, leaving me with one left spare, and hoped he would drop the questioning.

He hesitated as he realised that I didn't want to talk about my friendship with Alex. "Nothing." I raised an eyebrow at him; people never did things for free in the Metro, there had to be a catch. "You'll need your bullets more than me. Besides, your friend gave me a few bullets without me knowing." I wasn't about to complain about not being charged, generosity was a rarity.

I laughed lightly. "He's always been pretty frivolous with money. He recently spent 150 bullets on a rifle so terrible that we ended up calling it the Bastard gun. Damn thing overheats if you so much as think about pulling the trigger."

He chuckled and ushered me out. "He's a nice guy, I hope you find him."

"Thank you for everything. You've been incredibly generous."

He closed my sliding door and covered it with a wooden board before opening the front door for me and letting me out. "Don't mention it. Stay safe, Ilia."

He'd previously given me instructions on how to get to the tunnel that Alex had used so I headed for the marketplace. There were dozens of vendors on both sides of the pathway selling all sorts of wares. I came across a bullet exchanger and figured that I could refill my empty AK magazine. The price was quite hefty, six bullets to fill it up, but I paid the price because the rifle's usefulness became very apparent with the watchers.

As I came across the stacked supply crates that Andrew had told me about. I approached it, ready to push the large box out of the way that blocked the entrance, when I heard a voice come over the loudspeakers in the station.

"Attention! Document inspection is about to be carried out in this station. Please stay at your residences and assist the law-enforcement personnel in their work. Be vigilant, comrades! The enemy never sleeps."

I hurried to push the heavy box out of the way and revealed the narrow passage formed by the boxes beyond. It took longer than I'd have liked, due in part to its weight but mostly down to my current lack of real strength. Behind me, I heard the shouting of the officers harassing people for their papers and inspecting their places of residence. I rushed down the passage and to the doorway.

"You at the door! Stop!" An officer shouted behind me. I turned to see two of them sprinting towards me with revolvers at the ready. The door offered little resistance as I swung it open and slammed it closed behind me. When I found nothing to block it with, I simply charged forward through the narrow twisting passageway. I kept my AK slung on my back and readied one of my revolvers as there wasn't enough space in the decrepit corridor for the rifle.

As I reached the turning I had to make, I heard the door slam on the wall as the officers opened it and yelled for me to stop. I came to a small square room where a table and two chairs had been set up but were currently empty. A couple of vodka cups and red army helmets sat on the table. There were two doors in the room and I couldn't remember which one I was supposed to take, but I heard footsteps approaching me, many more than two sets, so I had to decide. Both of them were locked from the inside, so I chose a door at random and quickly unlocked it, went through, and closed it behind me, though I was unfortunately unable to lock it from this side. It opened into a large darkened train tunnel so I simply started to run down it to hide in the darkness.

That was until I noticed that they hadn't followed me through the door. I readied my rifle and quietly moved back as I heard the latch lock the door from their side. I heard one of the muffled voices say, "Stupid bastard. He won't make it far through that tunnel," before a brief argument about how some people should have been on guard in the room with the table rather than checking the surface ladder.

Despite what he said, I relaxed slightly and took stock. The running hadn't done my wound any good but the pain was still manageable. I had a small rest before I unpacked my flashlight, charged it up, and moved forward. I couldn't use my AK as I couldn't hold both it and the flashlight, so I had to resort to the pistol once again; I did wish that I had the tape that Alex had used for his light.

My light illuminated the long-deserted tunnel. Its train tracks were almost non-existent as they had been broken, bent aside, or covered in rubble and several sections of the walls had collapsed and blocked large portions of the tunnel. At one point the entire roof had caved in and I had to climb over the difficult rubble to advance. So far, however, it didn't seem particularly dangerous to me, more obtuse than anything.

On that thought, I started to hear the distant sobbing of a man somewhere in the tunnel. It echoed through the tunnel but I didn't see anything as I approached. It continued to get louder and I started to hear the familiar metallic clinking of bullets being loaded into a revolver's chambers. I came across an open door in the side of the tunnel and rushed through to see what was going on.

I lit up the small square room with my light. It was covered in the normal spider webs and debris but was otherwise featureless. In the centre was a dark figure of a man. It looked like a shadow but wasn't cast by anything. The shadow was on its knees and loading a revolver as it continued to cry. A woman's skeleton lay on its back in front of it and was covered in pastel-coloured rags that would once have been clothes a long time ago. The shadow whimpered, "Why did this have to happen?" as it put its head where the skeleton's stomach would have once been. The silhouette lifted its head up and held the revolver to its head for a few horrible seconds as it continued to weep. "I'm so sorry," it said before it fired a flashless shot into its head with a deafening blast and fell backwards. It faded away as it fell into another skeleton lying on the floor next to the woman's.

I had no idea what I had just seen. Was that a real person? Had I just watched someone's last moments?It was horrible, I stood in the doorway for a while as I forgot everything else in the world. This person had clearly watched a loved one die which had driven them to kill themselves. It looked as though the person was being forced to relive that moment over and over again. Apparently, death wasn't necessarily final in the Metro.

I rushed out of the room and tried not to think about it anymore. I was unsuccessful, however, as I replayed the shot over and over in my mind. A strange guilt went through my mind but it wasn't like there was anything I could have done for them. I just had to focus on getting through the tunnel.

A quiet noise distracted me from these thoughts as I heard something moving across the tracks in the far reaches of the tunnel. _A railcar?_ I didn't understand how; the tracks were completely broken, buried, and useless. I moved to the side of the tunnel and covered my eyes as blindingly bright lights came down towards me. It sounded much larger than a railcar; I thought that someone had managed to create a full train somehow, but it didn't answer the question of how it was using the terrible tracks.

I turned my light off so that the advancing people couldn't see it and I made a futile attempt to hide against the wall as the bright lights stopped me from seeing whatever was producing them. The lights came towards me and passed by, but they were created by nothing. The clatters and rumbles of the train's wheels against the tracks boomed through the tunnel and more lights in the shape of a pre-war train's windows passed by me. I heard dozens of voices coming from the phenomenon but I couldn't see any of the people that they belonged to. The apparition simply travelled over the destroyed tracks and headed for Kuznetsky Most.

I was left in the darkness of its wake. I began to tremble as I struggled to hold my revolver. _What the fuck is this tunnel?_ I thought about going back but remembered that would likely be impossible, I had to push on. I turned my flashlight back on and kept going down the terrifying tunnel slightly faster than before. I could feel myself quiver as I breathed while jumpily swinging my flashlight across the tunnel and looking for any way out. I wished that I wasn't alone, Alex would have been able to offer some vaguely plausible and uplifting explanation. As it stood though, I was petrified.

Near-inaudible creaks and clangs of the decrepit tunnel spooked me as I slowly moved through the tunnel. I would turn my light behind me to see what had caused the noise, but found nothing and then worried that something would be in the darkness in front of me. The noises came from wherever I wasn't looking, it was maddening. A few times, I tripped and stumbled on several bits of loose debris and obstacles as I concentrated on looking in my light's direction, only just managing to stay upright.

A child screamed in terror behind me but turning my light towards the sound showed no source. I kept looking behind me as I picked up my pace and moved forward. In my haste, I caught my foot on a ruined crosstie of the track and collapsed on the floor. I dropped my light and revolver as a protruding corner of concrete stabbed my side and sent a wave a pain through my body from my wound. I let out a small cry of pain but quickly silenced myself as I scrabbled to find my equipment again. Another child screamed in the tunnel but I couldn't figure out its direction. My composure was in pieces and I clawed at the floor a few times before finally grasping my light and frantically searching the tunnel. A woman began to scream just before a man and another child did the same. They screamed over and over again and it started to sound like they were in my own head; covering my ears did nothing to silence them.

I grabbed my revolver and picked myself up before running further into the tunnel and hopefully away from the noises. I took laboured breaths and sweat dripped down my face as I skipped my flashlight across the tunnel but saw nothing. The noises were getting closer as I spotted a door in the tunnel's wall. Sprinting for it, I barged through and tried to take shelter in the crumbling utility room. The room was empty, so I ran to its far corner and collapsed against it before moving to sit against the wall and shakily aiming my revolver and flashlight at the door. My breathing was heavy as my pathetic flashlight didn't even reach the opposite side of the tunnel beyond and my aim with my revolver was too shaky to be useful. I found myself quietly pleading with whatever was causing this petrifying experience. The screaming suddenly stopped. The air was perfectly quiet and still. I didn't move, however. I waited where I was and watched the door intensely.

It still didn't feel safe though, it felt like I was being watched. I didn't understand the sensation, but I could definitely feel it. It wasn't until a few minutes had passed without issue that I tentatively checked the room around me again. I screamed at the top of my lungs and fired my revolver twice at the child's shadow that seemed to be watching me from the corner of the room before wasting no time in picking myself up and sprinting out of the room. The bullets impacted the wall behind the shadow with seemingly no effect as I slammed the door shut behind me and tore down the tunnel. I skipped my light across the walls but didn't see or hear anything else.

I stopped as the light that I shined ahead seemed to be blocked by a dark fog. I could only see a few feet in front of me. My hands were shaking violently as I looked into the darkness. Footsteps came from behind me, I looked in their direction but saw nothing. My light flickered and turned off as the fog enveloped me. Hitting the light to get it working didn't prove successful and I'd turned myself around so much that I couldn't tell which way I had come from. I holstered my revolver so that I could feel for the walls of the tunnel and just walked. Despite my previous proximity to the tunnel wall, I didn't feel anything anywhere near me, even after changing direction multiple times. The footsteps continued to advance towards me. I lost sight of everything, including my own body, which made walking on the horribly uneven surface incredibly difficult.

The footsteps stopped for a moment.

I waited and listened to the silence before timidly asking, "Who's there?"

The sound of dozens of screams filled my mind and completely deafened me. I dropped my light and tried to run away from the surrounding voices. The fog felt like it was pushing against me and weighing me down. I slowed to a tortured walk as I fought to take each stride. Every step became more difficult until I buckled under the pressure and collapsed to my hands and knees. I kept crawling but my muscles couldn't take it anymore. I fell to the floor and fought it for as long as possible, but I could feel a painful and unnatural sleep taking me. My muscles tensed up and I screamed in pain before my eyes were finally forced shut.

. . .

"What a fucking find!" I heard as I came to consciousness. I was completely unaware of my surroundings and didn't have the energy even open my eyes. "He had loads of shit on him. Check out his AK!"

"I know, right? Georgy and I heard a couple of shots down in the tunnel, so we went to check it out and just found him face down on the tracks. No idea what happened to him."

"Maybe he got caught by the darkness."

I was in such a mess that I couldn't even figure out how many people were talking. I simply knew that it was more than two.

"Shut the fuck up, Georgy. That's not real."

"It is! How else do you explain this guy?"

"Look at his wounds. A snout probably got to him."

"You mean the bandaged stomach and the old cuts on his chest? And why would a nosalis leave him? They're as hungry as we are, they don't just kill for fun."

"If it was this 'darkness,' then where was it when we got there?"

"It fucking moves. It doesn't just stay in one place, that would be easy to avoid and people wouldn't keep getting caught in it."

"Look, guys. It doesn't matter. We just made nineteen bullets out of this guy as well as two revolvers and an AK. Just be grateful."

"I'm just saying that you should be careful in the tunnel. It's a dangerous place."

One of them let out a loud laugh before sarcastically saying, "And every other tunnel is a happy place full of flowers and rainbows."

There was a brief pause as the men ran out of points to argue. "What should we do with him, then?"

"We could probably sell him to Kirill in Kitay-Gorod. Get a fair few bullets for him I reckon."

"I think his condition might knock the price down a bit."

I started to regain some of my awareness and realised that I was lying on the floor face down with my feet tied together and my hands tied behind my back. These people had stripped me of literally everything so I was lying on the dirty and uneven concrete floor completely naked. I turned my head to the side so that I was resting on my cheek and inched open my bleary eyes.

"Looks like he's waking up."

I groaned as I tried to clear my vision and remember what had happened. I could see that the corridor we were in opened up into a tunnel not far away from us. I sincerely hoped it wasn't anywhere near the horrors that had affected me.

"Should we see if we can get him to tell us what happened?" The person approached me and kneeled down to speak to me. "What happened to you? People don't normally end up unconscious in a dark, empty tunnel for no reason."

It was a serious effort to speak to the person and I couldn't remember much of what had happened. I tried to explain, but what came out of my mouth was incomprehensible ramblings. "Screaming. Footsteps. Big train."

"Great," he immediately said sarcastically as he stood up and complained to his colleagues. "He's lost his fucking mind. We'll barely get thirty for him."

"What about the others?"

I turned my head to look the other way and saw two similarly naked men and one woman in similar situations to me except that they all had lengths of filthy cloth through their mouths stopping them from speaking. The woman and man at the end of our row were terrified and shaking uncontrollably in place but the man closest to me was just glaring in anger at his captors. They looked like they hadn't been fed in a long time and were particularly weak. I also noticed a collection of stolen objects, most of them mine, in the corner of the room next to a metal door.

"Kill the men. We won't get anything for them. I'll take the woman." He moved over to the woman, grabbed her by her upper arm and dragged her down the narrow concrete corridor and towards the door at the far end. She let out a muffled scream as he dragged her but he ignored it and continued.

One of our captors asked, "Are we killing the new one?"

"Nah. We'll see if he comes around first. Just gag him for now," he replied as he dragged the woman through the door and closed it behind him.

The person forcefully tied a length of cloth around my head so that it went through my mouth before he moved over to the furthest prisoner. He was wearing thick clothing that must have been gathered from various sources. A large purple coat covered an old and ripping white T-shirt and black tracksuit trousers. He looked like he was in his mid-thirties, although it could have simply been that he had not aged well and he was much younger, and he had the beginnings of a full beard with moderately long, brown and greasy hair.

He grabbed the prisoner's hair and pulled him up so that he was on his knees up against the wall. The captor pulled a revolver out and leant down to look in the prisoner's trembling eyes. "You know who you have to thank for this?" The prisoner shook his head as the bandit looked over to me. "That guy over there. It'll be his revolver that ends your miserable life." _Bastards._ I knew that I recognised the gun. I scowled at the vile person as he turned back to face the prisoner. He pushed the barrel of the gun into the prisoner's forehead. The captive tried to plead with him, but it was to no avail through the cloth in his mouth. He squeezed the trigger with no second thoughts, lighting up the room with a bright yellow muzzle flash and briefly deafening all of us as the prisoner's head erupted in blood that splattered across the wall behind him. His lifeless body flew backwards before his head hit the back wall. The body slumped back forwards and eventually fell to the side.

Once our hearing had come back to us, we heard the woman in the next room. "No! Please don't!" Her voice was quickly muffled but we could still hear her try to scream. I closed my eyes and wished that I could be anywhere else, but all that happened was me picturing the vile things the man was doing to her since her screaming was so pronounced.

The executioner moved over to the next prisoner. He still seemed more angry than scared and almost seemed to growl through his gag. "Got something to say?" The bandit asked. He leant down and ripped the gag off the man while aiming my gun at him.

"Fuck you!" The prisoner shouted. "I hope you die in a vat of demon shit calling for your mummy to come and save your pathetic ass!"

The revolver fired again and the man screamed out in pain as the bullet passed through the back of his leg and shattered his kneecap. He began to writhe in pain on the floor as the blood slowly pooled around him. The bandit began to laugh at his misery. He looked at me and said, "See this? This is what happens when you are disrespectful." He shot the prisoner's other knee cap. His screams reverberated around the room. "Understand?" I nodded frantically as I trembled on the floor. He pushed the revolver into the back of the whimpering captive's head and pulled the trigger, finally silencing his horrifying noises.

He holstered the weapon and casually moved up to me before turning to a man behind me that I couldn't see. "Move the bodies into the tunnel." The person obliged and quickly moved to pick the first one up and drag them past us as the other man grabbed my hair and painfully pulled me to my knees similarly to the first prisoner. He looked into my eyes and said, "Ready to talk?" I was fully alert and ready to tell them whatever they wanted at this point. I quickly nodded as he smiled. He untied the cloth on my head and said, "Talk."

I severely stuttered as I spoke, but I managed to speak in a very quick and high-pitched tone, "I saw ghosts or something. There was this train that wasn't actually there and some kind of unnatural dark fog. I don't know what really happened, I just woke up here."

He rolled his eyes at me. "So, you're crazy?"

"No, I swear it's what happened!"

"Tell me a bit about yourself, then."

"I'm…" I stumbled with my words a little as I was confused by this line of questioning. I didn't want to piss him off, though. "I'm Ilia. A Hansa citizen from Novoslobodskaya." It didn't cross my mind to fake my identity at all through my stress and fear.

"Novoslobodskaya? Northern Arc, right?" I quickly nodded. "That's fucking ages away. What are you doing here?"

The blood from the corpse next to me started to pool around my knees as I spoke. "I'm looking for my friend. I was meant to go around this tunnel but the Reds forced me through here."

He suddenly looked proud of himself, "Well your search is coming to an end, I'm afraid." He slowly moved his head close to mine as he continued. "You're going to be a slave in Kitay-Gorod for the rest of your miserable little life." I could smell his terrible breath as he grinned at me and eventually put my cloth gag back on.

The other man came back after disposing of the corpses. He was dressed in a similarly disorganised way to his counterpart but was slightly younger. "I told you that the darkness was real."

His clear superior in this band of outcasts responded, "You believe this crazy fuck?"

"He doesn't seem crazy to me. Pretty coherent, actually." I quickly nodded in agreement at him.

"He said that he saw ghosts and a train." He turned to me and asked, "Do you mean a railcar?" I shook my head. "A proper pre-war Metro train?" I nodded up at him before he turned back to his subordinate. "You believe that?"

"I've heard crazier stories. Some people have said that they can hear singing in some of the pipes in the tunnels."

"Oh, fuck off with that. Gullible bastard."

They kept me silenced on my knees for hours. The blood around my legs dried but they didn't let me move, despite my attempted protests. My knees had seized up and ached from being on the hard concrete for so long. Throughout every silence, I could hear each of the three of them taking turns to have their way with the poor woman in the other room. It was disgusting.

I was in the room with the eldest and the youngest of the three bandits, while the executioner was with the woman. Both of my captors were sat on a nearby table and discussing about inane nonsense during all of this. I felt like I couldn't listen to them perform their horrible acts anymore, I had to speak out. I glared at the eldest, as he seemed to be the overall leader of the small group, and made angry but muffled sounds through my cloth gag. He noticed my anger and disinterestedly looked over to me.

"You want to say something?" I nodded aggressively. He sighed, stood up, sauntered over to me and took my gag off. I flexed my jaw slightly and swallowed some saliva that had built up. "What?"

"You can't fucking treat her like that. How can you possibly think that's ok?"

He casually looked over to the door and listened for a moment before turning back to me. "I don't think you're in much of a position to tell me what's right and wrong."

"You seriously think that this is fine?"

"Hey, we all have needs. It's a natural as eating or sleeping."

"Fucking hell, you people disgust me."

"What do you care? That your dear old mama in there or something?"

At the mention of my mother, I snarled at him. Any semblance of sympathy I had towards him faded as I started to only see anger. "You know fucking nothing about my mother."

He laughed. "Oh, was she a whore or something? The station bicycle?"

"When I get out of here, your own mother won't be able to recognise your face."

His calm demeanour suddenly changed to one of anger. "Is that so?" He growled before moving to tower over me. He stayed there for a few seconds. I didn't know what he was doing, but I stayed still and said nothing. He pulled his leg back and launched a hard kick into my wounded side. Intense pain shot through me as I fell to my side and cried out in agony. "What were you saying about getting out of here?!" He shouted as he booted my side again and again. My wounds reopened and covered the gauze wrapped around me in blood. I pleaded with him to stop but he ignored me and carried on kicking my side. I began to feel sick and dizzy as the pain was unrelenting and I couldn't focus on anything but the torture.

Two thunderous gunshots came from the woman's room as the bandit with her crashed through the door and landed onto the floor with one shot in his stomach and another in his head. The leader instantly stopped his assault and looked to the door in a thinly veiled panic. He glared at his subordinate and shouted, "Go and check it out!" as he pulled a revolver out from under his coat.

The younger man also pulled a revolver out and rushed for the door. He tentatively stepped over his dead friend and quickly moved inside. His boss followed him but waited outside the room. The young man aimed his pistol to the right but immediately took a shot to the head and slammed up against the wall. As he slid down and left a trail of blood on the wall, the boss swore loudly and charged in. He fired a shot to the right before quickly taking one to the chest. He fell to his knees but didn't die until another two shots came a few seconds later and hit him in his stomach and chest. I heard the clicking of an empty revolver's hammer continue a few times before he fell to the floor, along with someone on the other side. I could hear that the woman in the other room was in pain, but I couldn't tell what had actually happened past the wall.

The pain was still intense from my beating, but I desperately tried to loosen my wrist ties, spending the better part of five minutes frantically trying to wriggle my arms despite my excruciating pain. The woman's pained groans and heavy breathing matched my own, but I finally managed to loosen the rope enough for me to pick at the knot with my fingers and eventually untie it completely. I held my side as I painfully sat up against the wall and untied the rope around my feet with my other hand. I prepared myself for the agony of standing up by taking deep breaths before I used the wall to very carefully do so.

I staggered over to the door, almost knocking over one of the chairs and going down with it as I did, and held the doorframe to carefully step over the bodies and into the room. The small room contained little more than a disgusting single bed with multiple faded old Metro safety posters lining the walls. I looked over to the right to see the woman sat up against the wall. She was still naked but now covered in a range of cuts and bruises and clutching her bleeding stomach. Her short red hair was a mess and matted in places where it had clearly been pulled and her wrists and legs had clear rope-burn marks. Next to her was my revolver, now completely empty; she'd somehow managed to steal it from the bandit during his vile acts. She was still alive, however, so I collapsed down next to her and tried to look at her wound. She didn't respond as I moved her hand out of the way and looked at the deep wound the gun had created. The bullet had penetrated deep into her stomach and blood was pulsing out of it.

"Don't move," I said as I gently placed her hand back where it was and prepared to painfully stand up again. "I'll try and find some medical supplies."

She grabbed my arm with her free hand and quietly said, "Don't bother. I'm done. See to yourself." She wearily nodded her head at my bloody gauze. "I'm just happy to have killed those motherfuckers."

I completely forgot about my pain and held her free hand with both of mine. I knew that she was right. I couldn't hope to save her. I personally wouldn't have been able to with the best medical equipment in the Metro. "Fucking hell." I felt horrible; I was just watching someone die and there was nothing I could do about it. "I'm so sorry." I didn't even know her but it hit me hard. She didn't deserve to die.

"What's your name?" She asked as she began to shiver.

"Ilia Kozlov. Why?"

She gave me a small smile. "Gal…" She stopped and thought for a moment. "No, fuck it. Mary Lagunova. It was nice meeting you, Ilia."

I tried to warmly smile back. "Wish it could have been in better circumstances."

I sat against the wall next to her as the life slowly drained from her body. She at least had someone with her until the last moment. I couldn't think of anything else that could help. She died with a vague smile on her face, at least. I stared at the corpses of the despicable people that had caused all of this and wished that I could have done something.

I thought over the events. I _could_ have done something. If I hadn't have angered so quickly, I would have been in better shape and perhaps could have helped her before she was shot. I analysed my memories and felt worse and worse as I realised every little thing that I could have changed.

I eventually had to move on. As much as I didn't want to, I still had to continue my journey. I found my clothes next to the door and redressed myself, being extra careful around my agonising wound. Everything took longer than it needed to as I repeatedly lost my balance and had to use anything in my vicinity to help me stay upright. I searched all of the bandits' bodies as well as the rest of the stolen collection and found seven extra bullets as well as a sharp combat knife with a leather sheathe and ten rounds for my revolvers, one of which was still loaded. I loaded my other revolver leaving me with five bullets spare. The knife was a surprisingly well-constructed weapon; the sharp serrated blade itself was clean and mostly straight while the wooden handle had a decent leather grip and a metal guard around it.

The bandits had a few flashlights between them, so I tested them out and took the brightest as a replacement for the one I had lost earlier. I filled my water canteen with their small supply of water and sat on the bed as I rested and ate some of their disgusting food.

I looked over Mary's body and thought about leaving my revolver with her. I eventually decided that I couldn't threaten my own safety for something that ultimately wouldn't change her fate. However, to make a symbolic gesture, I withdrew the knife from its sheathe that I had tied to my waist and hidden under my shirt, and carved a small 'ML' into my revolver's wooden handle. If nothing else, I would at least remember her sacrifice.

Before I left, I made sure to make good on a promise. I went over to the leader's corpse and glared at his lifeless body on its back. His eyes stared helplessly up at me but I felt nothing but anger towards him. I stabilised myself on the wall next to me and held my boot over his head. With all of my strength, I forced it down into the centre of his face. I heard his nose break and saw a small amount of blood spatter across his face. I lifted my foot up and examined the extensive damage. It felt good. I stamped down again, pushing the nose further in and causing more blood to spray across his face. I kept crashing my foot down onto his face, disfiguring it further with every hit as I loudly shouted obscenities at him. I hit him until I'd pushed his head against the wall and eventually cracked his skull against it. Scraping my bloody boot off on a cleaner bit of his shirt, I caught my breath and composed myself as I looked down at my work. His face was completely unrecognisable and his nose had been pushed in to a point where it was more of a dip in the centre of his face. I was satisfied.

I prepared myself to move on and find out where exactly in the Metro I was. I knew that I couldn't have been too far from whatever horrors had affected me in the tunnel but also not too far from Kitay-Gorod itself as they were prepared to sell me there and moving prisoners isn't easy over long distances; unless you're the Reich, that is.

I exited the small outpost through where I was held captive and shined my flashlight across the tunnel. On the other side was an old and rusting train carriage. On it was a set of two arrows etched into the metal that showed that going to the right was Kitay-Gorod and the left was the Armoury, presumably so that the bandits didn't somehow forget. Just under the Armoury arrow, someone had etched the word 'Darkness' but it had later been hastily crossed out. I staggered over to the other side of the tunnel and shined my light into the open back door of the carriage to see if they used it for storage. I only found that they had ripped all of the seats out and replaced them with a few bedrolls that the bandits must have used for sleeping. I decided to avoid the pain of pulling myself up through the train's rear door to further search it and instead moved towards Kitay-Gorod. I had to stick close to the wall and often had to use it to stabilise myself as I moved over the floor of the empty tunnel. After everything I'd been through and despite the near-constant torment of my injuries, it was oddly peaceful.


	8. Chapter 8 - Stalker

Chapter 8: Stalker

Alexandr – Day 1 – 17:32

I'd heard about the dangers that lurked on the surface, so I held my shotgun at the ready and scanned my surroundings for any threats. Nothing moved and the only sound was the howling wind all around me. Every building in the area had nearly completely collapsed. All that was left were the grey husks of each wall that encompassed a mound of rubble in their centres. I started to shiver from the bitter cold and so decided to get a move on.

I quickly moved around the first building to shelter myself from the wind slightly and already came across my first danger. A winged beast that I recognised, from descriptions by Hansa's stalkers, to be a demon was devouring another mutant's corpse in the middle of the road. I couldn't see enough past the huge creature to tell what the deceased mutant was but I'd heard enough stories about Demons to know that they were extremely dangerous to even the best-equipped stalkers, let alone a severely unprepared man with nothing but an improvised shotgun. Fortunately for me, it was completely distracted by its meal so I managed to move silently into a moderately sized side street. The buildings had collapsed into it and I had to be extremely quiet as I clambered over their ruins, but thankfully the demon didn't notice me. I hurried down the street and turned off down a much narrower road to head more in Kitay-Gorod's direction. I was worried about losing my way, so I had to be careful not to get lost in between the tall and decrepit buildings that all looked unnervingly similar.

I slowed my pace as I began to hear footsteps in the buildings around me. As I reached a more complete building, I looked behind me and noticed some creatures in the windows of the buildings behind me. The four to five large and slightly furry creatures were making no effort to be stealthy, they just watched me from afar as I moved down the street. I didn't like them watching me, even if they did appear to be benign. Their strange behaviour spoke to me as being similar to that of a pack of wild dogs or wolves. The way they watched their potential prey, they gathered together and silently planned. I had to show them that I was in charge and wasn't to be messed with, but I didn't want to hurt them since that would only make them angry.

I aimed my shotgun for one of their buildings but away from any of them directly. I spent a fair amount of time debating my decision; there would be no turning back if I went through with it. Being careful to aim the weapon a fair distance away from the creature so that the pellets didn't spread towards it and do actual damage, I pulled the right trigger of my shotgun. The explosion from the weapon's right barrel briefly deafened me as its bright flash lit up the buildings around me. The buckshot fired out of the barrel in the pack's direction; they were already abandoning their positions by the time the pellets peppered the distant wall, causing very little real damage.

Satisfied with the result, I continued down the street. To replace the shot I'd fired, I pushed the stiff locking lever down at the base of the barrels which released them and allowed me to open them on their creaking hinges. I held the left-hand shell in place with my thumb as I shook the empty shell out and replaced it with one from my weapon's bandolier. I snapped the barrels back into place and felt great as I moved down the street, though I made sure to constantly check my surroundings for any creatures that may have heard the shot.

I found a way back onto the main street that I'd begun on; I felt like I knew where I was going from there so I carefully moved towards it. Peering around a building to get a look at the road, I found that I was on the other side of the still feasting demon. I stepped back to get out of sight but tripped on an errant brick from one of the many destroyed buildings. I slipped over and my shotgun slipped out of my hands, clattering loudly to the ground as I hit the hard floor on my back. I couldn't see the demon past the building I'd fallen behind, but it let out a guttural roar and I could hear it begin to beat its wings loudly.

I picked myself up and sprinted back down the narrow street in the hopes that it wouldn't fit. I was partially right, it overconfidently flew straight into the street and caught one of its huge wings in one of the open windows of a building. It ripped out a large chunk of the wall which caused much of the structure above it to collapse in as it flew off course slightly and tried to regain its composure from its surprise collision. I took the opportunity to sprint to the end of the street and pass under the reasonably sized archway to turn to the larger street I was previously moving down. It having to land and run through the archway gave me some precious time. I still wasn't far enough away from it though, it flew up and started gaining on me again.

Quickly forming a plan in my head, I stopped, turned and aimed my shotgun at its approaching mass. It roared again as it reared its back legs to attack. My nerves made the barrel of the gun shake quite aggressively, but it didn't matter too much where my plan was concerned. Once it was within a few feet of me, I aimed for its head and firmly pulled both triggers. The sound and the light coming from the weapon was enormous and blood sprayed across both it and me as it screeched in pain. It diverted its course upwards and away from the surprise danger to just miss me with its claws as I ducked down out of its way.

I didn't look at the damage I'd done, I just swung the shotgun over my shoulder as I bolted for one of the ruined buildings and clambered over the rubble that comprised its insides. There were several large buildings that I moved ungracefully through as fast as I could. I heard the demon's roars as it circled and tried to find me again. I made it to the main street and sprinted down it just to get away from the scene of the loud shotgun blast that would have likely attracted other creatures as well as the demon that was hunting me down. I looked for any exit that wasn't in a potentially unsafe building but I didn't spot one. The demon swooped overhead leaving a trail of blood as it circled around and came back to try and attack me again.

I noticed a grate in the road not far ahead, one that looked incredibly similar to the one I'd come to the surface through. In a moment of desperation, I rushed to it. The demon bore down on me as I wrenched open the large and stiff grate. I didn't have enough time to jump in, so I pulled it up and put it in between me and the hulking and bloody monster, hoping against hope that it wouldn't notice until it couldn't do anything about it. It thrust its back legs towards me again as I hid as much of myself behind the large grate as possible. Its claws struck the metal grate with a so much force that I was knocked back onto the floor and the grate bent out of shape. The demon let out a higher pitched roar and flew away as it prepared another attack. I had no time to waste, I quickly picked myself up and moved down the ladder a little before I slammed the grate shut. The demon's muffled roars still came through, but I ignored them and hurried down the ladder.

I reloaded my shotgun before looking at anything else. It was hard to get the shells in the barrel from my shaking hands, but I eventually managed it after dropping both shells on the decaying floor two times. The large wheel-locked door that closed the small Metro entrance off was stiff, but I managed to get it open and was greeted by a small darkened corridor. I closed the door and took my gas mask off with serious relief as I caught my breath and wiped away the sweat that had somehow formed all over my face despite the bitter surface temperature.

Remembering that Andrew had given me a light, I retrieved it and turned it on to see two closed doors and a long passageway that led upwards. The door to my left led to a huge main train tunnel. I had very little idea which one but, as far as I knew, it could only be one of two: the tunnel between Kuznetsky Most and Kitay-Gorod or the tunnel between Revolyutsii and Kurskaya. I thought about which way down the tunnel I should head, but that was answered for me when I realised that the right side of it had completely caved in. I ventured a little into the tunnel and found that there was absolutely no way through, it was completely blocked by the tunnel's debris.

I moved back and opened the other door out of curiosity. The small room wasn't particularly interesting, the floor was broken in several places and one of the corner walls had given way and spread rubble across the floor next to it as well as breaking a few of the pipes that once ran across it. A single bulb hung from the centre of the room but I couldn't immediately find a switch for it. Curiously, in the corner of the room was a packed away bedroll. It had clearly been there for a while as a few cobwebs had grown around it. On seeing this, I realised that I hadn't had a proper rest since this ordeal had started. As soon as I had a moment to think, I felt completely drained. This seemed like a chance to get some semblance of sleep. Although not with the spiders around; I'd heard that they cannibalised any corpses that they found, and they would probably do the same to me if I slept in their lair. I knew that they were afraid of light, so if the bulb worked then I could get a half-decent sleep. I spent the better part of five minutes searching for the switch until I realised that it was right next to the door that I had come through. Feeling quite stupid, I flicked it on and watched with glee as the dozens of spiders bolted off into the cracks in the walls. I closed and locked both the door to the tunnel and the door to this room before I spread out the bedroll, deposited my small amount of equipment on the floor and laid down on the slightly uncomfortable surface.

I hadn't had much time to think since being captured by the Nazis; this was the first moment of proper peace I'd had. I started to idly light my bullet lighter a few times and chuckled to myself as I remembered Ilia's lack of interest with it. I missed Ilia, I really did. He got on my nerves at times but he was a good friend and always looked out for me. I couldn't imagine what had happened to him since I saw him at the Führer's speech but I was worried for him. I knew that he was good at taking care of himself, much better than I, but the Metro was a cruel place and I'd only survived this long because of the kindness of some strangers. I hoped that he didn't follow me. It would have been safest for him if he just went back home while he could, I didn't want to be the reason for his death. I consoled myself by assuming that he didn't follow, it would have been crazy to. Choosing to go to Lubyanka? A ridiculous idea. Even if their own child was there, no one would do that.


	9. Chapter 9 - The Gamble

Chapter 9: The Gamble

Ilia – Day 1 – ?:?

It took about ten minutes of walking for me to see the campfire of Kitay-Gorod's door guards. There were three of them sat around drinking mushroom tea with their crude guns barely at the ready. They noticed my flashlight and quickly stood up to shine lights on me and question my presence.

"Who's there?" One of them asked.

I stopped as I put my flashlight away and held my hands up so that I didn't seem threatening. With my still painful wound, I replied, "Just a traveller. Can I get in?"

"Got business here?"

"Not exactly, but please." I approached them and pulled out ten of my bullets. "Please let me in. I'll give you this. It's everything I have. I've been through so much shit to get here." They didn't need to know how many bullets I actually had.

The looked at each other and shared a few whispers. I held my side with my free hand and slightly exaggerated my pained groans. They spent the better part of a minute discussing before finally getting back to me. "Fine. We'll let you in, but no funny business. And if you tell anyone we let you in, you're fucking dead."

I nodded and handed them the bullets. "Fair enough. Thank you, guys."

The guard moved with me to the door and heavily bashed on it. "Open up! We've got a visitor!"

The door made the usual sounds of metal parts shifting within the mechanism as it began to slowly open up towards us. This one wasn't in the best condition; the guards had already covered their ears by the time the piercing screech of the doors massive hinges sounded. I swore loudly but inaudibly over the shrieking door as I covered my ears as well.

Once the door was fully open, they let me through and the door began to close with another excruciating screech. One of the two guards on the other side stopped me until the door had finally closed.

"You're a guest in this station. You can keep your weapons but don't try anything. We're Kirill's men; if one of us tells you to do something, you do it. Understand?"

I nodded and said, "I'm not in much of a state to be trying anything anyway."

He snorted with amusement. "Fair point. Come in, spend some money. Don't stay for long."

"Before I do," I began as he raised an eyebrow at me, "has anyone come through here recently?"

"No one's come from this way in weeks."

"Are you sure? The guy I'm looking for has short brown hair, kind of tall, probably looks even more like shit than me."

"Oh yeah," he said in a sarcastically happy tone. "You've just jogged my memory. He _was_ one of the no people that came through here."

"Alright. Good point, well made." I moved on and, oddly, stared down at the station before me.

The station looked as though it had suffered some sort of collapse at some point in its life. What was once two parallel stations had broken down into one massive station that was also over double the height of its original size. There was a clear horizontal line halfway down where the original wall finished and the rest of the walls were made up of the dirt, rock and the concrete foundations of the stations that were held back with large amounts of metal scaffolding. I was standing at the station's original level at the top of a set of wooden stairs that descended before me into the bulk of the conjoined station.

Larger buildings made of wood and scrap metal had been constructed to make use of the extra space and were dotted around the outside, with one in particular drawing attention as it was largely painted in a dark red colour and in place of a door was a similarly red curtain with gold trimmings. On the front in lights were the words 'Kitay-Gorod Man Club'. Presumably they didn't have the number of bulbs required to write 'Gentleman's club'.

In the centre of everything was a large circular arena. The floor was simply the fallen station's platform floor but, around it, raised wooden seating had been constructed to both make the walls of the arena and allow people to watch. Above the large gates that served as the entrance to the arena floor was a cordoned off area that housed one single chair. It was currently empty but I could only assume that it was the station leader's chair. The arena's floor was stained with blood and I could even see a discarded bloody ear from where I was. Currently, two very well-built men were fighting it out in the centre. It was absolutely brutal, one was clearly struggling as his face was covered in blood that was dripping down to his tattered clothes. The other shirtless fighter was slightly taller and had taken a few hits himself, I could see a small amount of blood on his face and bruises on his chest, but he was holding his own much better. A small crowd of about twenty-five people filled a good portion of the seating were watching and shouting encouragement at whoever they had bet on.

I carefully moved down the uneven wooden staircase. There was nothing to hold onto on the way down so I had to work even harder to stay upright. It was a fairly long walk down but I eventually got to the arena as it looked like the losing man was about to take his final hit. He quickly came back to his senses, however, and sidestepped out of the way of an overconfident heavy punch before kicking his opponent in the back of the knee to drop him down and slamming his face into the nearby wall, breaking some of the planks with the sheer force of it. He stepped back to catch his breath and reevaluate as his opponent stumbled backwards and briefly held his bloodied head in pain before glaring at the other man. I didn't particularly want to watch this, but I saw free seating and desperately wanted to sit down and rest. There wasn't any space in the small arena where I could be by myself, but I found a space next to a lone man shouting encouragement at one of the fighters. I took my AK off from around my shoulder and put it between my legs as I sat down and settled in to watch the brutal sport.

With renewed strength, the shorter fighter lowered his profile and charged at his opponent. His shoulder collided with the bare stomach as he swung his arms around the larger fighter's waist and tackled him to the ground. He tried to punch his face from his advantageous position but the larger man on the ground blocked every attempt before grabbing one of his fists and forcefully pushing him off. They both rushed to stand up and continue the fight.

"Come on!" The man sat next to me yelled. "You can do better than that!"

I leant over to him and asked, "What's your bet?"

"I've got a hefty amount of bullets on that useless bastard with no shirt on. He had him on the ropes! He could have finished it if he wasn't so fucking arrogant!"

"When do they win? Is it when one of them gives in?"

He chuckled lightly. "Not from around here, are you? It's to the death."

My eyes widened with surprise. "Jesus. That's brutal."

"Makes the fights more interesting if they know that one of them won't be walking out alive."

"I guess so," I replied uneasily.

"My guy, Ruslan Utkin, has won nine fights. If he wins this he will have set a record." He started to shout at him again. "But that doesn't look like it's going to fucking happen, does it?!" Ruslan took a kick to the side of his stomach before dodging a punch to the face and regaining his balance.

"Who's the other guy?"

"Daniel Orlov. Some new guy. Says he's from Polis but I'm not sure I believe him. Good fighter, nonetheless."

"So, this is a regular thing?"

"Whenever someone challenges someone else. They're not scheduled, but it's usually once a week at minimum."

"It's a wonder you have any people left in the station at all."

"You'd be surprised how many people come here to escape the 'oppressive rules' of the big factions in the Metro. We get a lot of people from Hansa coming here, actually." He kept watching the fight but stretched his hand out towards me. "Pasha."

I shook his hand and started to reply with my name but realised where I was and slowly transformed it into, "Egor." I didn't want my real name outed in a place such as this.

Ruslan managed to land a powerful hit into Daniel's stomach and follow it up with a knee into his nose as he keeled over. A small amount of blood sprayed out as Daniel stumbled backwards and hit the wall behind him in a daze. Pasha shot up and cheered loudly for Ruslan.

Ruslan confidently sauntered over to the stunned Daniel up against the wall and grabbed his head in his massive hands. He lifted his head away from the wall before slamming it straight back down again, breaking some of the planks and leaving a large bloodstain across them. Daniel offered no resistance as Ruslan threw him away from the wall and to the hard concrete floor. He leant down, pulled Daniel's head away from the floor, and slammed it down with enough force that I swore that I heard a crack from either the floor or his skull. Ruslan stood up, proudly raised his arms and roared to the crowd as everyone that had bet on him, including Pasha, stood up and cheered for him. Blood started to pool around Daniel's head as he lay there, lifeless. Bookies began to move around the crowd to give those that bet on Ruslan their winnings.

Pasha ended up with a nice few clips. He turned to me and yelled over the cheering of the crowd, "Nice to meet you, friend!" He excitedly handed me one of his clips of five bullets and continued, "It's a great day! Buy yourself a drink, hire a prostitute! Whatever! Welcome to this wonderful place!" He ran off celebrating as I thanked him for the bullets. Apparently, I'd randomly sat next to the correct person.

Still not feeling up to moving, I stayed where I was over the next few minutes. Ruslan staggered out of the arena through the wooden gate on one side and was met by a cheering crowd outside as he headed straight for a nearby bar as a hero. Those that had bet on Daniel slumped away to the same bar to drink away their sorrows rather than celebrate. A few minutes after everyone had left, a couple of terrified looking men in tattered clothing hurried into the arena, followed by two of Kirill's retinue that stopped at the entrance and watched over them, rifles intimidatingly at the ready. The men dragged Daniel's body away, leaving a trail of blood across the already stained arena, and quickly returned with buckets of water and started to scrub the floor as clean as they could. They regularly glanced back at the guards who stared menacingly back. I could only assume that a similar fate would have befallen me if I'd remained in the bandits' captivity. I silently thanked Mary for her sacrifice again.

A woman moved along the raised wooden path behind me, being dragged by the arm towards the 'Man Club' not far away. She looked oddly well put-together for someone in this station. Her long wavy black hair was clean as was her beige overcoat that stretched down to her knees and covered her clothes beneath. She wore tall high heels, had shaved legs and even had makeup on, with striking dark red lipstick and black eyeliner. She was possibly the most beautiful woman I'd seen in the Metro, which wasn't saying much to be honest.

"Please, I don't want to do this anymore!" She pleaded with the gruff man leading her. He was clearly one of Kirill's men. He had a shaved head with scars across his stern face and thick clothing with muted colours. I also saw the outline of a revolver in one of his larger pockets.

"You are Kirill's property. You'll do as he says," he said.

"I can do the dancing, that's fine, but not the private shows. Please!"

The man was clearly frustrated with her. "You will do whatever is asked of you." He dragged her into the building through the curtain as she put up little resistance, likely knowing that she wasn't going to win.

I stayed for a minute as I thought through my situation. I hadn't found Alex. He should have come through here but he hadn't. There were no other entrances from Kuznetsky Most's direction either. The secret route that Andrew had led us down should have linked up with the main tunnel at some point so the guards would have seen him. Maybe Andrew seemed so trustworthy at the time, but I was starting to have my doubts. Maybe he intended for me to get captured by the Reds. But why wouldn't he just give me straight up? Nothing made sense to me. I decided that I should stick around this station for a while in case it just took him an abnormally long time to get here. It had happened to me so it could have happened to him.

My thoughts drifted to the woman that I had just seen. Her situation reminded me a lot of Mary's. It wouldn't be right if I sat back and ignored the woman after wishing desperately that I could have done something about Mary's situation. Also, if I couldn't do anything, I could at least have a nice time for once.

I stood up and began to move towards the club, noticing that the small rest had dramatically improved my ability to deal with the pain. I still had a small stagger but it was more manageable than before. I pulled myself up the steps to the front doorway and pushed the red scratchy curtain aside to reveal a small entrance room with red carpets and soft lighting. I could hear quiet and slow jazz being played by a guitar, drum kit and saxophone in the next room. A guard stood at the other side of the small room next to the curtain that led into the actual club, and to his right was a small opening in the wall with a person sitting behind it. I walked towards the gruff guard. Without paying much attention, he stopped me and said, "You got any weapons?"

I indicated to the AK on my shoulder and sarcastically said, "Maybe."

The much more approachable man in the window beckoned me over and said, "Hand me your weapons, I'll give you a ticket with a number, you'll get them back when you leave." Behind him was a large shelf that was full of metal crates of varying sizes all with padlocks on them. I felt uneasy, I wasn't a fan of leaving my expensive weapons with a stranger. "I know what you're thinking, but we give you the key so that not even we can get into your weapons." He chuckled to himself. "Don't lose it, it's happened before." I reluctantly agreed and handed over my weapons to be stored in a large lockbox. He handed me a key and a ticket that said '17' on it. Unbeknownst to him, however, I kept my knife under my shirt, just in case. I approached the guard and he gave me a half-hearted pat down before letting me into the club proper.

There was a slightly raised stage along one wall with a stripper pole in its centre. Small chairs ran in front of it mostly filled with men watching and encouraging the woman dancing seductively around it. A few small boxes were at the front of the stage where people could put their bullets to tip her. On the opposite side was a small bar where the bartender was serving continuous shots to a few depressed looking people sat at the bar; likely those that had just lost money on the fight. The saxophonist, drummer and guitarist had set up further down and played music that didn't interrupt but added to the atmosphere of the dingy club. A couple of guards stood with revolvers holstered and were simply enjoying the show rather than doing their jobs.

I thought that I might as well enjoy my time here, so I took a seat at the stage and sat back to watch the woman. I realised that it was the woman I'd seen earlier. She was wearing tight black lingerie and looked incredible. I had no idea how she or her bosses got hold of her clothes and makeup; I'd never seen anything like it in the Metro. She looked like some of the women Alex and I had seen and fawned over in some pre-war magazines that we had once found.

I was enjoying the show, and even put a bullet in the box, until I realised that her seductive smile was thinly veiling the torment I saw in her earlier. She was a relatively good dancer, but it became clear to me that she wasn't comfortable with it, nor was she a natural. Despite my desire to sit back and relax a little, I couldn't watch her in good conscious anymore. I pushed myself up from the chair and moved over to one of the guards.

"How much for a private dance from her?" I asked as I indicated to the woman.

He grinned at me. "She's a hot one, huh? Five bullets for ten minutes."

Five bullets seemed pretty steep but I didn't see any other way to get her by herself. Reluctantly, I agreed and he began to lead me through the club. We rounded a corner and came to two sets of narrow stairs. The set that led up had a closed wooden gate in the way that said 'Kirill's Office' on it and a guard at permanent attention next to it who scowled at me, whereas the other set led down under the club and was completely open. He led me downstairs and to a similarly decorated corridor with three metal sliding doors on either side. He moved to the middle left one, opened it, checked that it was empty and eventually let me in, saying that she would be along shortly. The small room had a comfortable red sofa, a dirty clock, dim mood lighting and not much else. I sat down and had a think about what on Earth I was planning on doing.

By the time the woman came to me a few minutes later, I still didn't have much of a plan. She came in as beautiful as she was before but with a distinct look of worry about her. The door loudly closed behind her and we heard the guard walk back up the loud stairs.

Tentatively, she looked at me and asked, "Did you want a dance, then?" I considered it for a second before deciding against it and refusing. She looked confused for a second before her eyes widened with anxiety and she took a step back. "What _do_ you want from me?"

Realising that I must have seemed extremely creepy, I tried to reassure her. "I don't want anything, I saw you earlier and I want to help." I made space on the sofa and beckoned her to sit next to me.

She cautiously sat down and asked, "What do you mean?"

"I'm going to take a wild guess here. You're not here of your own free will, are you?" She timidly shook her head. "I want to help you get out of here. I don't think it's right to force you into this."

A big smile came across her face. "Seriously?" She asked in disbelief. I nodded and she immediately moved in to hug me. She put her weight on my side and I briefly let out a small moan of pain. She quickly retracted and looked concerned.

Through a grimace, I said, "Forgot to mention." I lifted up my shirt a little to show her my bloody dressings.

"I'm so sorry. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, don't worry. Now, how about escaping?"

"I can't just walk out the front door. I don't see how you plan on doing this."

"That guy that dragged you here said that you were 'Kirill's property,' right? Maybe I could just buy you back or something?"

She shook her head. "I'm not sure that would work. He'd charge a stupid price that I'm not sure anyone would be able to pay. He _is_ a betting man, though. Maybe you could use that?"

"Yeah, that could work. Play a card game or something?" I thought for a moment after realising that I didn't know many card games well enough to bet with. "I'll figure something out." I reached into my pocket and pulled out five bullets. "Here's your payment for the ten minutes."

"I can't accept this if you're planning on breaking me out."

"It'll look suspicious if I don't. If it really eats away at you, you can pay me back later."

She smiled and gave me a much more careful hug. "Thank you. I'm Sofia by the way. Sofia Fedorova."

"Call me Egor… Kozlov." I couldn't think of a fake last name once I'd started saying my own.

She glanced up at the clock. "We've still got ages. Can I ask why you're doing this?"

I thought about my answer for a moment as I didn't exactly know, myself. "I've been travelling through horrible places today. I've seen and heard disgusting things that no one should ever go through. I came across someone in a similar, albeit slightly worse, situation to you but I couldn't do anything about it. Then I saw you and a vague chance to improve someone's life and I want to take it since I actually have the opportunity this time."

"You're clearly far too kind to belong to this station."

"The other women here. Are they trapped here as well?"

"As far as I can tell, they're working here out of choice. I don't know whether it's just to make ends meet or not, but they choose to work here." She let out a deep sigh. "This place is a fucking shithole. What even brought you here?"

"I've been looking for my friend, Alex. I don't suppose you've seen him, have you?" I described him a bit but she simply shook her head. "Didn't think so. Anyway, we were scavenging around the northern arc and he ended up being captured by the Reich. I've been trying to follow him and thought I'd tracked him down to here, but the door guards said that no one's come through."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I hope you find him."

"How did you end up here? Presumably, they don't force their own women in this."

"I used to live in Lubyanka with my family." I raised an eyebrow at her. I thought I'd misheard as I didn't think that anyone actually lived in Lubyanka, I thought that it was simply a Gulag. "Yeah, _that_ Lubyanka. The Red rule there is ridiculously oppressive. My father served them for years and they still barely gave us enough to feed ourselves despite both my Dad and my brother being in their army. They didn't even let me or my mother work to earn extra money. It was awful. So, I spoke out against them. I complained to the overruling lieutenant and begged him for more pay; I tried to garner support and was generally quite vocal about it. My parents initially didn't approve, so I started to do it without them knowing. One day, I was arrested by the Reds and thrown out of Kuznetsky Most into the dangerous tunnel that leads here with absolutely nothing to my name. I found a safer side passage and wound up here where the door guards snatched me up and sent me to Kirill. He put me here and forced me into everything that comes along with it. It's only been a week or so, but it's been horrible." She began to tear up and she put her head in her hands. "I hope my family's ok. I don't want them to have had trouble because of me." I didn't quite know how to react. I had absolutely no idea if her family would be ok or not. I assumed that they wouldn't be given the vindictiveness of those in charge of the Red Line, but I figured that I probably shouldn't say that. She glanced up at the clock and said, "Oh shit, time's nearly up." She looked at me. "Kirill's in his office upstairs. Just tell the guard that you have an offer for him and he should let you through; I've seen other people do it."

"Thanks. Wish me luck." I stood up and made motions towards the door.

"Thank you so much for doing this. I still can't believe it's happening."

I grinned and said, "I wouldn't thank me until it's over."

I left her in the room, moved upstairs and went straight up to the guard at the bottom of Kirill's stairs. I said the exact words that Sofia had mentioned and he did indeed let me through the gate and guide me upstairs. Kirill's office at the top of the building was as large as the room downstairs. The expansive walls were lined with various expensive memorabilia. There were a few large paintings that were good despite their fading and flaking paint; pre-war weapons – such as a Makarov pistol, an AN-94 assault rifle, and a Dragunov sniper rifle among others – a huge and very rare Metro map that showed all of the service tunnels that usually weren't shown, and many other expensive items. I could see where all of the money went to in this place. I made a mental note of the multiple tunnels that came off this station on the map just in case I needed to escape.

Two guards stood to attention at the far corners of the room. In the centre of the far end was a large wooden desk that was covered in bullets and paperwork with an empty office chair behind it and a smaller chair in front. To the desk's right was a comfortable sofa where Kirill sat with two of his scantily clad prostitutes that were clearly pretending to find him sexy.

He noticed us enter and ushered his women off him before moving over to his desk. Kirill was an oddly scrawny man with a tight-fitting white T-shirt, expensive looking beige trousers, moderately long blonde hair and a short but full-faced and well-kept beard. He looked a little older than me but not nearly old enough to be running a station. The guard with me said, "This guy says he has an offer for you of some kind. I let him up because-"

"Yes, yes, yes," Kirill spoke quickly as he interrupted. "I know my own orders." He began to speak condescendingly, "Well done, you can go now." The guard, clearly hating this, left us to it as I stood far away from the desk and the women watched from the sofa. "Come closer! Take a seat." He ordered as he beckoned me. I approached and sat on the chair as he said, "What's this 'deal,' then?"

"Well, sir,"

"No sirs," he interrupted. "Let's just talk business as equals. Call me Kirill."

"Ok. I'm Egor." I replied awkwardly, slightly bemused by the whole experience. I delicately worded my offer. "I would like to make an offer on one of your women."

He glanced over to the women on the sofa before, with an intrigued tone, asking, "Which one?"

"Sofia Fedorova."

"Ah, yes. I know that one. Fiery one, that. Bought her for a hefty sum," he replied, showing his dishonesty _._ "What's your offer, Mr Egor?"

"Well, I hear you're something of a gambler. Is that right?"

"Go on," he coerced, his intrigue was steadily growing.

"How about we bet on her freedom? If I win, she comes with me; If you win, I stay under your service." _What did I just say?_ I couldn't believe I'd offered my life up for someone I'd just met.

"Sure! Sounds like fun. What's your game?"

"Why don't we take bets on a fighter? Any fights coming up?"

He thought for a moment. "Not as such." He suddenly looked as though he'd had an epiphany before he planted his hands on the desk, leant in and looked me in the eyes. "But you could fight." My eyes widened. I considered myself a decent fighter but I didn't want a fight to the death, especially in my current condition. "I don't mind losing out on your service to see a good fight."

I stuttered as I said, "I'm not sure about that."

"Come on! A man fighting for his life to get the hand of an attractive woman? It's the classic story! I thought you were going to make my life a bit more interesting."

He stared at me as I thought it over. For whatever reason, I really wanted to help Sofia and this seemed like the only way. At least the ten-time champion would be out of action from his last fight. "Fuck it," I said as I stretched my hand out towards him. "Deal."

He gave me a firm handshake. "I'll organise the fight for midnight on the dot."

"Midnight? What time is it now?" I had completely lost track of time during this journey, mostly due to my previous experiences in the last tunnel.

He checked his shining silver watch. "Just gone eleven o'clock. You've got just under an hour to prepare. I'll let Sofia off for the rest of the evening so that you can do whatever it is you kids do before you meet your fate."

I stood up and prepared to leave as I slightly sarcastically said, "You're very generous, Kirill."

"Well, you see, I like those old Hollywood films," he needlessly answered, fortunately not picking up on my sarcasm. "I've managed to get a few of their film reels and they always have some sort of a story like this. I've basically just created my own now." I let out a nervous chuckle as he quickly scribbled on a small piece of paper and stamped it before handing it to me. "Give this to one of my men downstairs." It was a small statement saying that Sofia was free to go for the evening, stamped in red ink with Kirill's own signature. "Don't try to escape though," he warned. "If you try and ruin this for me, you'll know pain like you could never dream of."

I collected my weapons and left with Sofia. She showed me to her place of residence given to her by Kirill. It was absolutely nothing special. It consisted of two rooms; a bedroom with a small single bed, a poorly constructed bedside table, and a small shelf with nothing on it, and a small living area with a single gas cooker, a kettle, a couple of enamelled cups, a chair, and a small set of drawers for the few clothes that she owned (most of them being for the club). She had no decoration to speak of and no personal belongings. Once we got in, she changed into some more comfortable clothes and then called me in to sit on her bed as it was marginally comfier than the floor or the single chair. I explained the situation to her.

"You agreed to what?!" She snapped. "Are you crazy? You barely know me! What about your severe wound and all of that?"

"I know, it sounds ridiculous, but I think I could do ok." She was about to interrupt but I kept talking anyway. "I'm an alright fighter, and I've never been so through sheer strength; I just go for weak spots."

"Look, I appreciate what you're doing, but I'm fine if you want to back out. It's shit here, but it's not worth your life."

"Don't worry, I've got something of a plan." She looked intrigued as I went on to explain. I lifted up the side of my shirt opposite to my wound and showed her the knife. "It would be obvious there without a coat, I know, but I'll tie it to my leg and, if things get a bit hairy, I'll pull it out and get the upper hand."

Her concern continued. "I don't know, sounds like a quick way to get you killed by Kirill's men."

"Well, it's not like I can back out now anyway. I'll have it as a backup."

She looked deeply at me. "I can't remember the last time someone was this ridiculously kind." I looked at her and smiled. She was astonishingly beautiful; I'd never been so entranced by someone. I wondered if that was why I was going to these lengths to help her. _Am I that vain?_ "Does your side hurt?"

Trying to be brave, I replied, "Not really."

She looked at me condescendingly. "I've seen the way you walk. It's painful." She stood up and put her overcoat on. "Since I can't talk you out of this, I'm going to see if I can scrounge up something to help you. You stay here and rest."

I told her that she didn't need to, but she didn't listen and left me alone to think about what I'd agreed to. It was oddly exciting, to be honest. The possibility of me failing fell to the back of my mind and my thoughts were simply clouded by images of me saving Sofia and being the hero.

She returned half an hour later and handed me a tiny plastic bag that contained two small white pills. "I have it on good authority that these are painkillers."

I took the bag and sceptically looked at it. "Who's authority?"

She sat next to me on the bed. "We've got a doctor here. He's a really nice guy and wouldn't hurt a soul even if he wanted to. Trust me, they'll be fine." I continued to examine them. I remembered that I had just met this woman, they could be anything. "Come on, you're offering to free me. I'm not going to try and poison you. That would be dumb."

She made a lot of sense to me. "I suppose so." Perhaps I was blinded by seeing her in the club, but I threw caution to the wind and took the pills with a small amount of water from one of her cups and relaxed. We didn't speak much before the fight, we simply thought things through. I thought about my fighting strategy as much as I could. I wasn't going to do it cleanly, I was going to use whatever advantage I could get and go for the weakest points; the neck, the stomach, the crotch, I didn't care.

When the time came, I prepared my knife by tying it to my shin. We left my coat and the rest of my equipment in Sofia's place and left for the arena.

There were even more people at this fight than the last one, despite the last one's apparent importance; there were upwards of thirty people filling out the stands. There were four guards in Kirill's section of the stands, but no Kirill present. I gave Sofia my remaining fifteen bullets and told her to bet on me. It was a no-brainer to me. If I won, I'd get a load of money; If I lost, I wouldn't give a shit because I'd be dead. Before we reached the stands where we were due to separate, she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and said, "Good luck," with a warm smile. It was encouraging to say the least, as was the fact that her strong painkillers had severely numbed my painful wound. I moved around to the entrance of the arena at the very bottom of the station. Kirill was already there to meet me.

"Good to see _someone's_ punctual, at least," he said as I approached. "Your opponent will be here soon, I'm sure. Go right on through. We'll get things started." He barged through the large gates and spoke loudly to the crowd. "Attention everyone!" The murmuring crowd quickly silenced. "I welcome you to a fight that's close to my heart. This man is fighting for the hand of a beautiful woman! Give it up for Egor… Something." He looked over at me and I mouthed my last name. "Kozlov! From…" He looked at me and hurriedly whispered, "Where are you from?"

"Let's just say Hansa."

"From Hansa!" The crowd cheered and I spotted Sofia amongst them as I moved to the far side of the arena. She smiled and gave me a quick wave before looking back to Kirill. One of the guards in his section of the stands looked down at the other side of the entrance and gave Kirill a thumbs-up. Kirill breathed a sigh of relief before continuing. "And facing him in this trial of love!" He gestured to the door as it swung open. "Ten-time champion; Ruslan Utkin!" The massive shirtless man took large strides into the arena and stared me down as the crowd cheered even louder for him.

 _Shit._ I thought that he'd be out of action for ages after his monumental fight. I briefly hoped that he'd at least be weaker than before but he didn't seem fazed by his still-present cuts and bruises on his face and body. The nerves took hold of me as the reality of fight came crashing down again, but I tried to give some semblance of aggression towards him.

Kirill turned to me and yelled, "Anything you want to say before we begin?" I quickly shook my head. He looked surprised at the lack of fighting talk but carried on with his shtick regardless. He looked to Ruslan. "What have you got for us?"

Ruslan had a deep, gravelly voice and stared at me the entire time he spoke. He definitely succeeded in intimidating me. "I'm going to turn you into a paste that not even a fucking snout would eat. I've killed men twice your size, I'm not about to be beaten by a fucking child." It was an odd insult as he couldn't have been much older than myself. He spat towards me, making the saliva thankfully land just in front of my feet. The audience cheered loudly again. I must have shown some fear because he gave me an aggressive grin as if he'd already won.

Kirill took a step back and shouted to the audience once more in his showman tone. "Woah. Tempers are high tonight! Last chance to place a bet!" He waited for a little while as the bookies moved through the audience and collected the last holdouts for a bet. Ruslan stared at me the entire time. I tried to look anywhere but at him just to calm my nerves slightly but it didn't work. Once he'd got the thumbs-up from the bookies, Kirill shouted out, "The betting is now closed! Now, who wants to see a fight?!" The audience cheered as loudly as they could and most of them stood up to do so. During this excessive cheering, Kirill left the arena and quickly moved up the steep staircase outside the arena to get to his private seat that was surrounded by four armed guards. A large wooden bar went across the other side of the gates, locking us in. Once the crowd had died down, he continued. "Are you ready in the ring?!" Ruslan roared formidably but I simply nodded up to Kirill, surprising him again. He hesitated slightly before returning to his rehearsed prologue, "Excellent! Fight!"

The crowd cheered again as Ruslan and I raised our fists into a fighting stance. Despite his confidence, Ruslan wasn't taking this quickly. We circled each other for a little while as we sized each other up. He was significantly taller than I remembered. I wasn't exactly short, but he towered above me. He was wide as well but made completely of muscle. I was seriously regretting agreeing to this. It started to remind me of my fights as a teenager; I'd beaten up several people that were much older and stronger than me just from having the right technique and enough anger. However, in those situations, I didn't have a nearly fatal demon wound weighing me down.

We edged towards each other, neither one of us wanting to make the first move. After obeying the crowd that was slowly getting bored, Ruslan lunged at my face with his fist. I ducked out of the way and went for his stomach, but he saw it coming and dodged it, leaving us in exactly the same circumstances as before. I tried to remember his previous fight and recalled that he tended to be caught out by Daniel's kicks. He went for my stomach with his fist but I dodged out of the way and immediately put all of my force into kicking his shin as his weight carried him forward. I caught it and he tripped and stumbled forward allowing me to quickly follow it up with a hard punch to his solid stomach. He coughed and spluttered as he bent over and held his stomach, but he caught his balance and managed to stay upright. The punch hurt my hand slightly and I had to shake it off to alleviate it somewhat. I tried to do it subtly, but he noticed and grinned as he edged towards me again.

He went for another punch to my face but swung too early, his fist flew just past my nose and missed me. I took the opportunity and leant in to go for his face, but I didn't see his elbow still heading straight for me. It collided with the side of my face with force. Pain shot through me as a tooth was knocked loose and a mixture of saliva and blood flew out of my mouth. I stumbled to the arena's side wall and nearly fell to the floor but just about managed to keep my balance. He was following it up with an uppercut to my chin but I noticed it just in time and staggered backwards, colliding clumsily with the arena wall but just about in safety. He was going for me again to capitalise on me being on the defensive, so I pushed off the arena wall and scrabbled along the floor slightly as I moved a few feet away from him to reevaluate my tactics. My face was in serious pain but I pushed it to the back of my mind and focused.

He was up against the wall, I had an opportunity. I charged at him as he was turning around to face me again. I lowered myself, wrapped my arms around his upper body and used my shoulder to force him into the barricade. He let out a pained grunt as the wood broke on his back but I didn't waste any time. I kept him there and brought my knee into his stomach. His pain became louder as I landed two more hits before I felt that I'd got lucky enough and released him to hop backwards and out of his range. He was still leaning stunned against the wall, so I went to kick his crotch in the hopes of incapacitating him once and for all. He grabbed my foot and grinned as he pushed himself off the barricade. He pulled me closer to him as his arms firmly gripped higher and higher up my leg before he pushed me down to the ground. I hit the hard concrete with serious force that sent waves of pain through my spine. I let out a pained moan as he let go of my leg and rushed around to my side. He went to stomp on my face, but I came to my senses and rolled out of the way before staggering as I inelegantly stood upright again.

"You've got more fight than I expected, I'll give you that," he growled. I said nothing and focused on staying conscious. Possibly offended by my lack of a reply, he charged at me with the hopes of landing a big hit on my face. I dodged around him but crouched down to grab his leg. Throwing him completely off balance, he landed on the floor hard and finally let out an actual cry of pain as the thud from his massive form echoed through the station. Still holding his leg, I lifted his foot up and took a small amount of time in aiming my next move. I forced my foot into the back of his shin and pulled his foot towards me against the pressure with as much force as I could muster. The haunting sound of his bones snapping resonated through the arena as the audience let out a loud empathy wince. I lifted his foot again and threw it into the ground so that his knee impacted with the solid concrete and stepped away. He struggled to stand up again as I caught my breath and the crowd watched with silent anticipation. By putting most of his weight on his good leg, he somehow stood up and glared at me through his immense pain.

"I. Will not. Be beaten. By a fucking child!" He spat through laboured breaths as he reached into his trousers and unsheathed a very similar blade to my own.

"What the fuck?!" I shouted as I glanced up to Kirill. He simply shrugged his shoulders as the crippled Ruslan inched towards me. "So that's how we're playing it, huh?!" I backed off slightly and reached down to unsheathe my own blade. Ruslan showed surprise but carried on regardless. We both held our knives with the blade facing outwards as I readied myself, for once being more agile than him. He swung down at me, not aiming for anything in particular, so I dodged out of the way and went to stab his arm. He saw it coming and grabbed my knife-wielding arm with his free hand to stop it. He raised his other arm to slash me but misjudged the distance and the handle collided with my wounded side with a lot of power. I swore loudly and broke free of his grip to stagger backwards and desperately hold my wound. I felt dizzy from the pain and I had trouble focusing on what was happening. I had to use the wall to support myself as I tried to regain my composure.

"Hit a. Weak spot. Have I?" He snarled through gritted teeth as he limped towards me ever closer. I tried to steady myself, but it was difficult through the torment that my side was giving me. I managed to come to my senses as he went straight for my side. He was clearly not expecting me to react, so I moved as fast as I could to the side to avoid him. He sliced through my shirt and caught my arm as I did so. I fought to ignore the pain as I grabbed his knife-wielding hand and pushed it towards the floor. I pulled him down with it as his other arm wrapped around me over my shoulder. I lifted my leg up over his knife-wielding hand and pushed it down to the bloodstained ground with my foot. I crushed his hand between my boot and the floor and screwed my foot so that the guard on the knife twisted in such a way that I heard several of his fingers break. He screamed as his massive sweaty and slightly bloody arm tensed and lowered me down with him. I brought my own knife around and tried to stab his back. I hit his shoulder blade so it didn't penetrate far, but it sliced across it and towards his spine which made his arm release me and meant that I was able to dart backwards. The knife fell out of his broken fingers and he stared up at me in a rage with red streaming eyes. My recuperation gave him enough time to pick his knife up with his off-hand.

"You're fucking finished. Just give up!" I shouted, not particularly wanting to actually kill a man.

"Fuck. You," was all I got in return.

"Crazy fucking bastard," I muttered in disbelief. He continued to approach as he had done in the past and readied an attack. I couldn't believe his resilience. I turned my knife around in my hand and readied myself. In a surprising move, he inaccurately lobbed his knife at me, aiming for my side. My reactions had been severely impacted by the fight, so I didn't have enough time to move any meaningful distance out of the way. The knife hit my gauzed wound and, while not penetrating deep, cut into it. I let out a cry and fought to keep my balance again as the projectile knife clattered to the floor and he approached. He sped up in a rage as I could concentrate on nothing but the pain pulsing through me. His fist came hurtling towards me, I realised it just too late as it connected with the side of my mouth. Blood spat out of my it as the punch sent me flying to the side. I collapsed on the floor a good few feet away from Ruslan and remained on all fours as I tried to focus myself. I let go of my knife but its guard kept it from leaving my hand completely. Blood dripped out of my mouth and onto the already bloodstained floor as I took heavy breaths.

I heard Ruslan approach but I couldn't muster the energy to move. A hand grabbed the back of my shirt and pushed me over onto my back. Ruslan was staring down at me with a smirk. I didn't know what he had planned, but the reality of facing death hit me and I gripped my knife again. In a sudden burst of surprising energy, I lifted it around and plunged it into the thigh of his good leg. I let go of the weapon as Ruslan shrieked with pain and collapsed to the floor on his back next to me. Not wanting to waste time, I scrabbled to get up and quickly pulled my knife out of his leg, causing him yet more pain. I felt anger overcome me as I kneeled over him and forced the blade down into his stomach. All of the air escaped his lungs as I pulled the knife out and stabbed him again. He coughed up a small amount of blood as the life drained from his body. I yanked the knife out again and moved it to his chest, where I found a spot between his ribs and slowly penetrated it into his vital organs. He began to gurgle blood as his mouth filled up and his eyes glazed over. I held the knife as I looked over him and tried to catch my breath. The crowd was completely silent. The adrenaline began to fade and all of my new and old injuries began to throb painfully.

"We have a new winner!" Kirill shouted as he leapt to his feet and began to clap. "Egor…" He hesitated as he tried to remember my name. "Egor Kozlov!" The crowd suddenly created a wall of sound. Some of it cheering, most of it booing. They clearly had a lot of money on Ruslan. I didn't blame them, I didn't believe in myself either. Kirill leapt down to my level. "Congratulations! It may not have been the most, uh, conventional victory. But you won a technically fair fight nonetheless! You won the title of champion, my respect, _and_ the girl!" He gestured towards Sofia in the crowd. She had just collected her winnings and was standing and clapping for me. I grinned a little but didn't say anything. I was amazed and horrified at what I had just done. I'd never taken someone's life before. A relative rarity in the Metro where killers waited in even the most minor tunnels. I didn't feel much sympathy; we both knew what we were getting into and he pulled the knife first. Calling it a just death would be going a bit far, but it certainly wasn't unfair. I was actually surprised at how little remorse I felt in the end.

The pain of my wounds really started to kick I, I felt weak and dizzy again. I pulled my knife out of Ruslan's body and sheathed it so that I could hold my side and look over the cut on my arm. It wasn't hugely deep but it was still very painful; I knew at least I wouldn't lose the use of it. I remained in place taking tortured breaths as I ignored the rest of the world and focused on the pain. Kirill kneeled down next to me. "Best fight in a long time. Come on, let's get you to your winnings." He ordered one of his men to put an arm under my shoulder and haul me out of the ring. He left me next to the wall to lean up against it and support myself as I continued to clutch my side. "Here she comes now!" Kirill excitedly exclaimed. Sofia came running around and rushed to give me a hug that served to both support and congratulate me.

"Well done, Egor. That was amazing!"

"Congratulations, Sofia!" Kirill began with a strange excitement considering he'd lost a slave of his. "You've bagged yourself a good one there. You're free to do as you please." He dropped his tone suddenly. "Be out of your house by eleven." She didn't respond before he left us. The crowd started to dissipate and we heard various rumblings of both annoyed and excited people talking about the fight.

"Let's get you back to mine." She began the lengthy process of hauling me away from the arena. "You seriously need a rest."

She eased me onto her bed. "I can't believe you won. You actually won!" She said excitedly once I was on the bed. "You did amazingly."

I managed to quietly say, "Doesn't feel like it."

She lightly laughed. "We should redress that stomach wound. I didn't mention at the time in case you thought I didn't believe in you, but I managed to get a few medical supplies from the doctor as well." She pulled up her chair and began to peel away the gauze around my stomach. The process was incredibly painful as the gauze stuck to the wound and I loudly groaned and moaned as she pulled it away, especially when I had to lift my back up so that she could completely unwrap it. She finally saw the open wound which now had another slice added to it and was severely bruised from all of the hits I'd taken to it over the last few hours. "Jesus. What did this to you?" Sofia asked.

I thought about telling her, but eventually just said, "Can I explain later?" I didn't have the energy to go into it.

"Right, of course. Sorry." She washed off the wound with water and disinfectant, an extraordinarily painful process, and redressed it in fresh gauze. She did the same for my arm cut and also cleaned up the hits I'd taken to the face and my bloody knuckle. I didn't feel able to move much for a little while, so we agreed to wait before moving off.

"Check out how much you won from your bet." She pulled twelve bullet clips out of her larger overcoat pocket, amounting to a total of sixty bullets.

"Fuck me. That's a lot. You should keep half."

"What? Why? You earned them."

"Just take them."

She split the bullets with a constant look of surprise. "Thank you. I'll have to pay you back someday." We sat in silence for a brief period before she said, "I have to ask; what was all of that 'fighting for your girl' thing about?"

I let out a slightly laboured laugh. "Right, yeah. He seemed to latch onto this Romeo and Juliet Hollywood fantasy of his. I figured I'd let him run with it since it helped my case somewhat."

She chuckled. "I found it pretty funny. He made it so dramatic." She paused for a moment. "So, what's your real name?" I glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. "Come on, you're clearly not comfortable when you say 'Egor'."

"Fine, you got me. Ilia."

"Is Kozlov real?" I nodded. "Ilia Kozlov. Suits you better." She grinned at me as I chuckled. "So, Ilia Kozlov, what did you have planned now?"

"I'm not really sure. I was thinking about this earlier. Maybe Alex managed to get to the Revolyutsii-Kurskaya tunnel. I think that goes pretty close to here at some point and it wouldn't be too hard to find a minor tunnel that goes between this station and it."

"Well I'll follow you wherever. I can't go back home and you literally saved my life. I owe you everything."

"Thank you. I feel like I'll need the help. I saw on Kirill's fancy map that there's a service tunnel that leads from here to that tunnel. You wouldn't happen to know anything about it, would you?"

She thought for a moment. "There's a door that seems to face that direction on the opposite side of the station. Could be that. We can go there later if you like?"

"That would be great."

We talked for about an hour while I recuperated slightly, during which I found out something about the history of the station that Sofia had picked up during her short time. As it turned out, Kitay-Gorod had only relatively recently collapsed into the conglomerate it was at this point. It used to be two separate but linked stations that were controlled by two different families of what essentially amounted to groups of bandits and lawbreakers. Their separate religions often caused violent conflicts between them. Eventually, they made peace and lived in relative stability for some time as they continued their nefarious, traditionally law-breaking ways. No one quite knew what actually happened to the stations in the end, but the apparently weakened underbelly of the station gave way and collapsed into what I saw that day. No one made it out alive and Kirill, being an enterprising leader of a small group of bandits at the time, discovered the ruins and transformed it into its vague representation of its former self.

When I was ready, Sofia hauled me off the bed; I still wasn't perfect but I felt like I could walk by myself. We gathered all of my equipment and refilled my first aid kit with Sofia's medical supplies; I also decided to leave the knife where I had it on my leg during the fight, it was good to have a backup like that.

"You should take one of my revolvers," I said as I pointed to the two of them in their holsters now lying on the bed.

"Thanks. Any one in particular?"

"Go for the one without the 'ML' carved into the handle."

She looked slightly confused as she picked up her revolver and put the holster on. "Why ML? If you don't mind me asking."

"Remember that woman that was in a similar situation to you?" She slowly nodded with intrigue. "Those are her initials."

"Did you know her well?"

"Not at all. I literally only know her name. But she gave her life in trying to escape and in doing so allowed me to escape. It's just a stupid symbolic thing, I guess. I'll tell you more if we get a chance later."

"Yeah, you must. You seem to have a lot of stories to tell."

"Far too many."

Despite the late hour, everything in the station was still in full-swing; it seemed as though the residents didn't pay attention to the clock much. The walk to the other side was oddly tense. We noticed a few people glaring at us as we passed them. I initially chalked it up to being an outsider, but it felt like more than that.

We came across a small marketplace where we thought that it would be a good idea to stock up a bit with our newfound money. We approached one of the nicer looking vendors, a large man who seemed to have an oddly expansive stock. He must have done well out of this station. He sat behind a wooden stall that was covered in all manner of items. There were posters, pre-war magazines (most of which were pornographic), bottles of mushroom vodka, clothes, and even dog toys. The items that attracted us, however, were the few gas masks and the bucket of filters.

"Hey, it's Egor!" He called as we approached. "Great fight! What can I do for you?"

"Thanks," I awkwardly replied. "How much for a gas mask?"

"They're fifty bullets to the common man with fifteen for each filter." He saw my look of surprise. "It's top quality stuff, those filters have barely been used and will last you longer than most of the shit you find around here." He leant in towards us and spoke quietly. "You earned me a lot of money yesterday, though. So, it's only right that I do something for you." He picked up the gas mask and thrust it towards me. "Take it. I'll still have to charge you for the filters, but this'll cut the cost a lot."

I took the mask and replied, "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you," before handing it to Sofia. We bought a filter each and prepared to leave him to his business.

"I don't mean to be rude," the vendor began as we took steps away. We stopped and turned back to listen to what he had to say. "But I think you two should leave the station soon."

"And why is that?" I asked, thinking that it was a threat.

"A lot of people around here don't like that you beat Ruslan. I've heard some mutterings about getting payback on you." He nodded his head towards a couple of people behind us that were talking to each other without taking their eyes off me. "Someone said to me that they didn't think you fought fair with your knife."

I turned back to him. "But he pulled a knife first!"

"I know, I saw. I didn't say I thought that they were right. People liked Ruslan, they'd have done it to that Daniel guy if he'd won."

I sighed heavily. "Alright, thanks for the warning."

"No worries. Keep fighting strong."

I turned to Sofia. "Come on, let's get a move on. I don't fancy any more fighting for now." She nodded and began to lead me through the station again. We noticed the people staring a lot more now so we quickened our pace as much as my wounds would let me. We quickly clambered up the stairs that led to the station platform's original height. Feeling nervous, we rushed over to the small door as a small crowd gathered at the bottom of the stairs, most of them brandishing weapons. Sofia wrenched open the stiff door and ushered me through before entering herself and slamming it closed behind her. The passage was obviously never used as its lights weren't powered. I retrieved my flashlight and lit up the cobweb-infested corridor.

"This should be the one you saw on Kirill's map," Sofia said with some uncertainty.

"You sure about that?"

"Not in the slightest, but it's the best we've got."

"Better than being with the mob, at least."

We moved through the tunnel in silence. There was nothing much of interest along the way, occasionally there would be a small room with some old monitoring equipment or empty storage space in separate rooms, but generally we just followed the only path available to us. I felt exhaustion overcoming me as we moved down the multiple staircases and through the corridors of this small tunnel. I realised that I hadn't properly slept during this whole endeavour. I unwillingly let out a large yawn that I hoped Sofia wouldn't notice, but I had no such luck.

She stopped me and asked, "You tired?"

"I'm fine. We should keep moving."

"If you're tired, we should find somewhere for you to sleep. Facing the tunnels is hard enough without exhaustion weighing you down. When was the last time you slept?"

"I was unconscious for a small amount of time before I got to Kitay-Gorod."

"You've really been through it, haven't you?" I nodded to her, not realising that she could barely see my head in the darkness as my light was pointing towards her. "You know that doesn't count, though."

"I've had bits here and there. Let's just keep going for now." I began to move off and continue down the passage. "If we see somewhere, we can _discuss_ getting some sleep."

We reached an open door that led into a larger tunnel. It looked like the one we were after so I had a look in while Sofia checked out a door next to it that led into a small room still in the service tunnel. We'd previously checked the room opposite Sofia's and it had a wheel locked door that presumably led to the surface; we didn't want to tangle with that.

A look to the right of the large tunnel, in what we assumed was Kurskaya's direction, revealed a severely frustrating sight. The entire tunnel had collapsed and blocked our way through. A mountain of rubble had caved in and a huge mound of concrete, metal supports and rock filled the tunnel. The tunnel in Revolyutsii's direction was in some disrepair, but it was at least traversable as far as we could see.

"Ilia, get back in here!" Sofia called to me. Thinking that something was wrong, I rushed into the room that she was checking and had a look around. She'd found a switch to turn on a dim yellow bulb in the centre of the small room, although I couldn't see the switch for the life of me. The far corner had collapsed slightly and a few of the pipes were broken from it. On the cracked and broken floor was a single spread out bedroll against the wall. "Reckon this is a good place to sleep?"

"It's a little unsafe, isn't it?"

"Where isn't? Come on. We can continue later, you need some proper rest. I can keep watch." I reluctantly agreed before I dropped my equipment off next to the bedroll and laid down. I didn't want to stop following Alex, but when I yawned again, I realised that I would have to sleep. We weren't even sure if we were following him anymore.

"The route the Kurskaya is fucked, by the way. The tunnel has completely collapsed. He could have gone to Revolyutsii, though."

"To the Reds? Why would he do that?"

"He might not have known. I'm not entirely sure that he came here at all though."

She sat next to me and thought for a moment. "We'll think about it later. Can I quickly check your wounds? Make sure the dressings have held."

I took my coat and shirt off to reveal the menagerie of cuts and bruises across my body as well as the gauze across me. "Go for it."

She spent a little bit of time checking over the more major wounds before she pointed to one of the smaller cuts on my face. "Where did you get this?"

I felt it on my cheek before remembering and chuckling to myself. "That's the result of a combination of a spider that bit me when I was playing dead for the Nazis, and a different Nazi slamming my face into a wall." I went on to explain how this all started to her. She was utterly entranced by my stories of the Führer's speech and how I thought that I'd blended in, only to find that I seriously hadn't.

"Where'd you get your massive ones, then?"

"Oh, you know. A demon." I felt oddly proud of my tangle with the demon on the surface. It wasn't as if I fought it well, but I was one of a few people to have actually seen one. Even fewer people escaped a fight with them alive as well, so it made me look better despite my cowardice at the time.

Her eyes widened in shock. "A _demon_? Christ, Ilia." I told her of my time on the surface, possibly making myself sound a little braver than I actually was. I got onto telling her about my encounter with the watchers. She indicated to my group of bruises and scratches on the centre of my upper chest. "Is that where you got all of these, then?"

"Them, and a series of cuts and bruises on my back where one of them launched me into a wall."

"How are you still able to stand?"

I laughed with her. "I have no fucking idea." She shuffled in her position but suddenly showed a look of discomfort. She reached for what she had just sat on and pulled out a large bullet. I didn't pay much attention to it until it burst into flame. "Huh, it's a lighter," she with mild interest as she closed the cap to put it out. I quickly sat up, immediately regretting it when a wave of pain washed through me from my side, and snatched it from her hands. It was the lighter that Alex had found back when we were together. I stared in wonder at it. "You alright?" Sofia asked with some confusion.

I showed it to her again. "It's Alex's!"

She didn't quite register what I said at first. "What?"

"He was here!"

"Oh shit, that's great!"

"We should go, he could be close!"

"No, Ilia." She was stern as she took the lighter away from me. "You need to rest." I was about to interrupt be she shushed me. "You _need_ to sleep. If he went to Revolyutsii, you need to be awake." I fought her a little, but I knew that she was right. When I started to yawn as I was putting forward my argument, I knew that she'd won. I laid down but was too excited to sleep, I felt like I had nearly found Alex. "How come you and your friend are so close?" Sofia asked as she noticed my wide-open eyes. "Sorry, I know I told you to sleep, but I don't think I've ever met anyone that would go to these lengths for someone that's not even family."

I sat up and thought about my answer. "He basically is family to me. You know the Hansa – Red Line War?"

She nodded. "I lived in Lubyanka, how could I not?" She began to mockingly imitate her communist leaders. "'General Secretary Moskvin achieved a great victory during the negotiations in securing Revolyutsii for the glory of the Red Line.' Morons. Everyone knows that Hansa basically won it."

It was oddly interesting hearing the communist side of the story. We'd always been told pretty much the same message but from the Hansa side. She was right, though, Hansa did essentially win it. They managed to close the ring through the negotiations and secure their future for years to come while the Red Line got access to Revolution Square for some symbolism. I laughed at her impression.

"Yeah, that war," I confirmed. "Both Alex's father and my own fought and died in that war."

"Oh god, I'm sorry. That's terrible."

"It's ok, I've had enough time to deal with it. In fact, in a weird way, it was kind of what brought Alex and I together. Our mothers had been told the whole truth, but we had essentially been told that we should be extremely proud of our 'brave and courageous' fathers. And we _were_ proud. We paraded up and down the station singing our fathers' praises." I paused and looked away as I began to dredge up some painful memories. "I…" I stuttered as I struggled to continue. "I don't normally go any further than this with the story."

Sofia put her hand on my shoulder. "If you don't want to go on, that's fine."

"No, it's ok. I guess it's good to talk about it." I paused and took a deep breath as I composed myself. "My mother was never very good with me, to be honest. She wasn't a bad mother, but she never told me the truth and she kept a lot of things bottled up. During the few weeks after we were told of my father's death, my mother kept telling me that everything was ok, that she was handling it, all while spending our family's bullets on drinking her feelings away. I spent a lot of time at Alex's; my mother couldn't look after me and Alex's mother was nice enough to take me in for a while each day." I felt a lump in my throat and tried to swallow it down but to no effect. "A few weeks after my father's death, I came home from a day at Alex's." Water began to fill my eyes. I tried to blink it away but it was formed as fast as I could. I tried swallowing the lump away again, but nothing happened. Sofia handed me my water canteen and I took a large drink. "I came home expecting to be there alone, she was never back until I was already in bed at this point. I opened the flap of our tent, and there she was. Hanging from the ceiling. Fucking dead."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Ilia." She brought me in for a careful hug as a tear rolled down my cheek.

"No note. No explanation. Just bottles of fucking mushroom vodka strewn about the place." Sofia was the first person that I'd told about this since I'd first told Alex. I never expected the emotions to flow like they were, but I'd kept it bottled up for so long with everyone that I came across that I couldn't help it. "I ran out of that place screaming and went straight for Alex's." We retracted from the hug but Sofia gently rubbed my arm as I continued. "Alex's mother took me in but I refused to talk to anyone about it for ages. It messed me up for a long time." We didn't talk for a few minutes as I snivelled and Sofia tried to comfort me. "Sorry. I didn't mean to go into that. You only asked how I knew Alex."

"No, it's fine. I'm happy that you shared." She smiled and put her arm around me. She offered a great sense of comfort. I eventually laid down as Sofia went on watch. It felt oddly good to get all of that off my chest.


	10. Chapter 10 - Aftermath

Chapter 10: Aftermath

Alexandr – Day 2 – 02:38

I heard people coming towards me from the maintenance tunnel outside my room and woke up immediately. Their distant echoing voices were muffled through the walls and I could only just make out that it was a man and a woman talking.

"You tired?" The woman asked.

"I'm fine. We should keep moving," replied the man.

I panicked and collected my few belongings. My plan was to take the bedroll with me, but I unfortunately didn't seem to have the time anymore. I quietly moved through my door and closed it before moving into the main tunnel, only remembering that I should have turned the dim light off once I was too far away from the potential danger to care. I hoped that it led to either Kitay-Gorod or a Hansa station. The absolute worst-case scenario would be if it ended at Revolyutsii.

The tunnel was a disaster zone. So much of its walls had collapsed or been blown up. Broken weapons lay discarded and wasting away across the width of the tunnel and spent bullet casings were strewn about. I came across a number of skeletons that donned the very old and rudimentary armour of Hansa troops. Their helmets were rusting and most of their fabric clothing had all but disintegrated. I checked a few of the bodies and found nothing useful, anything good had either wasted away or had already been scavenged. While the sight didn't immediately bode well for me, I was somewhat comforted by the age of these bodies because that meant that this fighting wasn't recent at least.

I came across another blockage in my path; yet another section of the tunnel had collapsed. Running out of ideas as to what to do next, I shined my torch across the ruinous cave in with dismay. Just before I completely gave up hope, I saw an old train carriage in the corner of the rubble. I hurried over to it and shined a light through the narrow, glassless windows of its back door. The ruined carriage was covered in spider webs, the creators of which scurried away as fast as possible when I illuminated them. There were so many that I couldn't see to the other end of the carriage. I thought I'd make use of my lighter and burn them away nice and quickly, but routing around in my pockets and only served to make me panic when I couldn't find it. Searching through every pocket multiple times, I eventually concluded that I must have dropped when I'd hastily collected all of my equipment. _Fuck_. It was so cool and it actually would have been useful here.

After debating doing back into potential danger for a moment, I refocused if the train carriage. The two sliding doors were slightly open in the middle, so I grasped each door with my hands and tried to pull them apart. They didn't budge, they'd been sat dormant for far too long. Running out of ideas, I found a narrow but strong looking length of pipe on the floor nearby and wedged it in the gap. Pushing it to one side with all of my strength bent the pipe slightly, but I eventually managed to break the doors free of their rusting position with a sudden jerk that almost knocked me over. I pushed the pipe into the cobwebs in the carriage and swung it around a little to remove them from my path before I climbed into it myself. My lighter would have been much faster, but I slowly moved through the carriage using the pipe to clear my way as I went.

Several skeletons were sat in the seats and lying on the floor of the carriage. They looked significantly older than those I'd seen before and were dressed in the rags of civilian clothing. They must have died when the bombs dropped. Some figures were cowering in the foot wells when they died, others had been thrown to the back of the carriage, some were just sat in their seats. I saw one mother holding a child close to them. I momentarily forgot where I was and walked straight into a mass of cobwebs. I scraped them off me and rushed out of the carriage; I just wanted to be out of there. I used the same trick to open the door at the far end and hopped out into the relatively clear tunnel.

The rest of the tunnel was similarly littered with the fallen bodies of Hansa soldiers. For a moment I wondered why this was so prevalent, when I remembered the Hansa - Red Line War many years ago. This amount of aged Hansa bodies would mean that I was near one of two places, the Lenin Library or Revolyutsii. Unfortunately, it seemed like these bodies would be from one of the many times the Reds took over Revolyutsii and Hansa launched a counter attack, as I was supposed to be on the wrong side of the Red Line for it to be the Lenin Library, now a part of Polis.

I pushed the thought to the back of my mind and instead thought about how Ilia and I had first bonded through our fathers' deaths and his mother's eventual suicide. He was always somewhat emotionally distant from then. He didn't even tell me what actually happened with his mother until I was 15, previously choosing to tell me that she simply ran away. He never coped with it particularly well and tended to beat those that mentioned her into a pulp. When he got angry, it was never worth trying to stop him. He'd even lash out at those that barely mentioned her, simply because he couldn't deal with thinking about her again. When he was 12, another child a year younger that didn't know him asked him general questions about his lack of parents. Ilia initially tried to shrug him off but, when the child kept persisting and not getting my hints to leave it alone since similar things had happened before, Ilia slammed him up against a wall and threw him into another family's tent, collapsing it completely, before walking away without saying a word to any of them. I was unfortunately left to try and pick up the pieces he'd left. People in the station soon learned to not ask questions like that.

I figured that he needed a good woman to teach him some compassion but that wasn't likely to happen in this place and I certainly wasn't going to be able to get through his outer shell.

While absorbed in these thoughts, I saw a light in the distance of the tunnel. It was a campfire with four Red Line soldiers gathered around it. Unfortunately, it seemed as if I was I correct in my judgement about where I was. They had a kettle set up over the fire and were boiling some water to make tea. One of them spotted me and bolted upright as they aimed their rifle at me and yelled, "Contact! Who's there?!"

The rest of them rushed to join him as I put my hands up, wondered how on Earth I was going to play this, and yelled back, "Friendly!"

They approached me as the speaker continued. "What's your business?"

I had to think on my feet. "I'm soldier of the Red Line! The fascists captured me but I managed to escape!" Where did that come from?

"What are you talking about? There's no Nazis on this side of the line, there's nothing this way."

"It's a long story, but it involved a perilous trip to the surface. I've travelled for a long time, can I come in?"

They all looked at each other and discussed quickly. I just about managed to overhear their mutterings. "You two can take him to the door while we stay here. Don't be long." They turned back to me. "Fine. Come here and follow close." I approached them and they took my small amount of equipment off me with promises to give it back if I was let in. They led me past another campfire of four soldiers before we eventually made it to the main door of the tunnel with yet another contingent of guards on alert outside. My guides shared a few quiet words with them before knocking loudly on the door and requesting entry. The well-maintained sliding doors slowly unlocked with a loud, echoing clunk of the mechanism before they were painstakingly pushed apart by the guards behind the door.

At first glance, the station beyond was a stark contrast to Lubyanka, the only other officially Red station I'd ever visited. Where Lubyanka was half-prison, half-slum, Revolyutsii appeared to be significantly more militarised and wealthy. While the outer guards were the standard Red Army conscripts, outfitted with the most basic equipment as they were only there to inform the rest of the station of any of the rare threats to their eastern tunnel, the soldiers inside the station were all grizzled veterans who were given proper body armour and more reliable and powerful weapons. The three guards past the door all had pre-war urban camouflage as well as large bulletproof vests and a selection of weaponry. They carried high-end AKS-74Us, a shortened version of the usual AK-74M, but leaning against supply boxes and barricades was an RPK light machine gun, a Saiga semi-automatic shotgun and even a VSK-94 silenced sniper rifle. The doorway led into a closed off inspection room where the three guards stood to attention amongst an officer in a large black trench coat and officer's cap who was sat expectantly behind an empty table. I was told by my two guides to stay still and wait to be called up as they moved up to the officer.

"This man claims to be a Red soldier coming from Nazi captivity," one of the guards said as he unloaded my shotgun and placed it on the table along with my flashlight, gas mask and canteen. "This is what he had with him."

The officer furrowed his brow and judged me from across the room. He was clearly a stranger to physical work, preferring instead to organise things from the background. He was middle-aged yet his hands had no callouses, his clothes were clean, and his short and greying hair was well maintained and hidden under his pristine cap. He glared at me for a few seconds before briefly turning back to his subordinates. "You may return to your watch now." They quickly obeyed and paced out of the room before the door loudly closed behind them. He continued to glare at me. I wasn't sure how to react, so I tried my best to stand to attention like I'd seen Hansa troops do to their superiors at home. He eventually beckoned me towards the empty seat in front of the table and, without breaking eye contact, said, "Take a seat." I obliged and silently sat down on the uncomfortable metal chair before me. His glare was nerve wracking but I desperately tried not to show it. "Do you have your papers?"

I was prepared fir that question. "I'm afraid they took them off me, Sir."

He sighed heavily. "Ok, what is your name?"

I had to quickly think of a name as I desperately didn't want to give my real name. I went with the alleged name of someone in my home station that tried to copy the exploring that Ilia and I did. He was never very good and unfortunately ended up disappearing into the northern tunnels, never to be seen again. "Sergei Savin, Sir."

"Sergei Savin. You say you escaped from Nazi captivity?" I gently nodded. "Where were you based and where were you captured?"

"Lubyanka, Sir." I decided to use the only Red station that I knew anything about. "I was captured after the recent Nazi attack."

The officer leant back in his chair and thought to himself as he continued to stare at me. "This attack being the prisoners that the Reich sent towards our border?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I wasn't aware that we lost anyone from that. The prisoners were unarmed, were they not?"

I hesitated as I tried to make up my story. "They were unarmed, yes, but they were escorted by some of the Reich's troops. Me and one of my watch team went after them but they managed to get the drop on us."

"And what was your comrade's name?"

I paused again as I tried to think of a name before realising that the officer probably knew less about the attack than me since he seemed based in this tunnel entrance. "I'm afraid I didn't know his name. I met him that day and I think he died there."

He his gaze finally left me as he looked over my possessions on the table. "This… equipment," he said derisively. "It is not standard issue."

"Yes. I took this from the fascists."

"How exactly did you escape?" He quickly asked, hoping to catch me off guard.

Fortunately, I'd been thinking about this for a while. "I reached a point in my interrogation where-"

"Wait," he interrupted as he held his hand up and showed some worry. "Interrogation? Did you tell them anything?"

"I have nothing to tell them, Sir," I flatly responded. A small smile broke out of him as he nodded in acceptance and beckoned me to carry on. "I only had my hands tied and one person interrogating me. I stole his knife, killed him, and took his equipment. From there, I made my way out of the station and to the surface where I fought a demon amongst other things." He showed a little spark of being impressed as I continued. "Eventually I made it here, much further away than I intended but it was hard to find my way accurately across the surface."

He thought to himself again for just over a minute. "Stay here. I have to check your story." He gave me one last stare before slowly rising to his feet and quietly moving through the metal door behind him. The door slammed shut and I was left with the three well-equipped soldiers watching my every move. One of them briefly flinched when I went to scratch my head, so I decided to stop moving altogether.

It was a tense few minutes. With each second, I felt more and more nervous about what the officer was checking. I didn't think that I was hugely convincing and the scornful looks that he had given me as I made my story up on the spot didn't help. I'd always considered myself a decent liar, though. During my time in the officer's limbo, I distracted and reassured myself with thoughts of my previous successes in this regard.

One of my better lies was when I convinced most of the populations of Novoslobodskaya, neighbouring Mendeleevskaya, and the northern neutral station of Savelovskaya that all of the stations north of Savelovskaya were covered in radiation and were much too dangerous to scavenge from so that Ilia and I could have the first pick of everything. Ilia and I went off to Dmitrovskaya to recover an heirloom left by a family in Savelovskaya for a hefty price. When we got there, it was an untapped goldmine of old electronics, bullets, and even books. It was too much to take back in one trip, so when we found an old and broken analogue Geiger counter, we formulated a plan. Carefully, we took off the dial's plastic cover and moved the needle so that it was stuck in its highest position. After putting the cover back on, we only took the heirloom and rushed back to Savelovskaya where we collected our reward but proceeded to show everyone the broken Geiger counter. I took the lying lead as we pretended that the radiation at the station was so strong that it broke our Geiger counter. I didn't even know if that was possible, but people seemed to buy it.

From then on, we would sneak off and make our livings from the scrap we found there. No one knew where we got our materials from and we weren't about to tell them. Word quickly spread of the radiation and traders coming to our station from all over the metro started telling _us_ about it. We only stopped going north because we'd scavenged everything in Dmitrovskaya and Timiryazevskaya and fancied somewhere closer to home. That turned out to be Tsvetnoy Bulvar, a bad move.

In reality, the northern stations had been abandoned because of a nosalis infestation. The residents held out for as long as possible but were eventually overrun and had to retreat to Savelovskaya where the defences were bolstered by Hansa until the threat was dealt with. Those that left still didn't return, however, as most were simply too scared. Years had passed by the time we got there and so our lie was almost plausible. We didn't even encounter any nosalises, there was clearly no longer any source of food so they left for greener pastures.

The door slammed open and the officer confidently strode up to his chair, put both of his hands on its back, and leant on it as he stared me down again. "It seems your story checks out." He extended his hand towards mine. I gave him a firm handshake as he smiled and said, "Welcome home, Comrade Savin. You may keep your equipment. Rest easy tonight, we'll get you back to Lubyanka when you've recovered from your journey."

"Thank you, Sir." I picked up my equipment, choosing to put the unloaded shotgun shells in the bandolier rather than loading them. I had no idea how I'd gotten away with my story; if he actually checked it out, he would have found it to be completely falsified. I could only assume that he left the room to pretend to check it out since he didn't have the means to do it properly in the short space of time required.

I followed him out of the door behind the table which led into the main station. A wooden pathway led immediately off the tracks and onto the station's platform. The tracks were full of the usual supply crates but the station looked as though it would have once been much grander than the standard Metro station. While it's walls and abnormally high ceilings were still covered in the usual soot and grime, the archways that led into the platform's centre contained small statues depicting Soviet workers (fitting for the Red's capital station) on either side that were well maintained and in good condition. Most of these relatively small archways were blocked off by supplies or the dozens of soldiers in varying states of work. Some were eagerly exercising while others were stood in their groups and idly muttering to each other. All of them glared at me with mistrust briefly until they saw that I was being escorted by the likely low-ranking officer, when they simply went back to what they were doing.

The walls and ceilings were lined with red banners. Halfway down the long platform was a set of stairs in its centre that led down to the transfer tunnel to Teatral'naya station and past that was the long set of escalators that eventually led to the cruel surface. Where the stairs in the centre were placed, the archways in the walls changed their purpose. In the immediate centre, they were clear to allow passage to the other sides of the platform, but the subsequent arches held small tents used as living spaces. They all looked relatively large, clean, and tidy; they must have been for the lower ranking officers, such as the man guiding me, as simple grunts wouldn't get as luxurious tents and higher ranking officers (at least in Hansa stations) got even nicer abodes. The officer led me to a tent that clearly hadn't been used in some time. It was generally clean, but the front flaps were coated in a layer of dust that wouldn't have formed if they were in constant use.

"We don't normally situate simple door guards in these tents," he began as he stopped me in front of the tent, "but as you have gone through a great deal of hardship to make it back to our glorious homeland, we have decided to let you rest here, in a guest tent, for a while before we sort your transfer back to Lubyanka."

"Thank you, Sir," I replied as sincerely as possible before remembering what faction I was with. "Glory to the Red Line."

"Glory to the Red Line," he quickly responded before saluting and moving back towards his position at the tunnel entrance.

The tent was long and narrow but made use of all of the space in the arch, meaning that I would even be able to stand up once inside. I pulled back the tent flap and inspected the interior. There was little more than a surprisingly clean but nevertheless old green army cot on one side with a plain black length of scratchy carpet covering the hard tiled floor, and a small wooden chair on the other side to the cot. I dumped my equipment in a corner and sat on the uncomfortable chair. Since I'd already slept for a fair amount of time in the tunnel, I didn't particularly need the sleep that they assumed I did and I didn't know how long they were going to be until they came to get me.

I didn't particularly want to go to Lubyanka again, either. Especially as my story would likely unravel as they would actually be able to check it when we got there. I didn't want to leave early and accidentally arouse suspicion, however. I had absolutely no idea what to do. Poking my head out of the tent revealed two heavily armed guards on the other side of the platform casually leaning up against the wall but clearly watching my tent. I nodded to them and went back inside, realising that they were there to make sure I didn't do anything suspicious. It seemed as though they believed my story but didn't want to take any chances.

. . .

I sat with my own thoughts ages but couldn't be sure for how long, during which time I'd thought up no plans and no method of escape from this station. I'd really dug myself a grave and wished that Ilia would have been with me to remind me to think of the entire plan rather than my current improvising as I went along.

I heard a voice call to me outside. "Comrade Savin! Are you awake?" I pulled open the flap and greeted the young soldier outside. He was wearing the standard Red Army equipment; brown clothes with a small backpack and a terrible machine gun hanging from a clearly homemade strap across his shoulder. "Hey, I've been sent to collect you for your transfer back to Lubyanka." Reluctantly, I gathered my things and joined him outside. "I'm Anton Yudin." We shook hands and he began to lead me further down the station. "We have a couple of things to do before we go. First, they want to reequip and pay you, the second is a surprise." He gave me a small smile that made me worry; it sounded so sinister. "It's a pleasure to meet you. From what I've heard, your escape sounds quite incredible."

Since not even I could say what had happened because I made most of it up, I just noncommittally replied, "I don't know, it just kind of happened."

He led me through one of the open archways that led to a larger maintenance tunnel. He opened its double doors and revealed an armoury in the surprising space. The corridor expanded in one direction into a large square room, but the weapons themselves were blocked off at the bottom by a DIY countertop and a mesh fence coming from the top to stop people stealing weapons. Behind it was an older man who had either seen his fair share of action or unreliable weapons. He had a shaved head with numerous scars all over it, he'd gone blind in one eye where a visceral scar covered it, and his Red Army clothes were tattered and worn. His hands were blackened and greasy and he seemed oddly uncomfortable in his seating position. Behind him was a wall full of all manner of weapons hung from pins on the wall ranging from the worst AK-47s to almost futuristic looking assault rifles that I'd never seen or even heard about before. Below these were several boxes of ammunition and general equipment.

"This is Sergei Savin, Sir," my guide said as we approached.

"Ah, yes," the armourer said in a deep, gravelly voice. "I was told you would be coming." He reached below his desk and pulled out an already prepared machine gun. It looked remarkably similar to my old gun that I'd lost to the Reich, the only real differences were that this one had a solid wooden stock rather than my flimsy collapsible metal one and it still had its safety catch whereas mine had fallen off long ago. Alongside it, he put down a satchel that contained a full magazine of thirty military grade bullets, a post card sized paper map of the metro, and a small black capsule. "Your weapon and your payment. As usual, you are encouraged to use your pay against the enemy. If you're captured again, you may consider the cyanide capsule." He looked at the shotgun already slung on my shoulder before putting a lot of effort into awkwardly standing up and staggering over to the back wall. Only one of his legs seemed to be his own, the other looked to be a prosthetic as he lifted a lid off one of the boxes and pulled out a moderately sized green backpack. It was larger than Ilia's single-strap affair, but certainly nothing special. He dumped it on the desk and slid it through the gap between the desk and the mesh as he said, "For the rest of your equipment. You can tie your other weapon to the side."

I took the backpack and began tying my shotgun around it using its strap as I said, "Thanks. Much appreciated." I finished up and put the rest of my equipment inside before checking my new Bastard gun's safety worked and picking it up without loading the magazine into it. Unfortunately, the weapon had no carrying strap, but I felt comfortable enough holding it anyway due to my previous experience.

"Right, onto your surprise," said Anton with a smile. My nerves were slightly eased by the weapon, at least it seemed like it wasn't a trap if they were willing to give me a loaded gun. Maybe they really did believe me.

He led me back through the station and to the central stairs. He checked the time on the station's massive clock and quickly said, "We have to hurry before it starts," before rushing down the stairs. I followed him with great interest as he dashed to the bottom and hurried through the long transfer tunnel. The tunnel was full of living quarters that ranged from simple tents to hastily constructed slum housing. I could only assume this was where the general residents of the stations lived. We were moving too fast to examine them in detail, but the people looked relatively content. None looked majorly hungry and, in contrast to Lubyanka, few were begging for money or food and none were soliciting degrading services just to make ends meet.

Eventually, we came down more stairs and to a small dingy bar. Its patrons were eating, drinking and laughing happily as we basically ran through its centre and rounded tight corners, through narrow passages flanked by scrap-constructed buildings and repurposed train cars, and eventually came to a large entrance hall in the middle of the station's platform. Red curtains covered some of the relatively clean walls and blocked off the archways that led to the platform edges, and a small queue led to a ticket booth with two turnstiles being guarded by a burly looking but otherwise unarmed ticket inspector. Above him was a sign lit up with dozens of bulbs that proudly read 'Bolshoy'. The beautifully decorated ceiling was perfectly clean and still resembled its pre-war glory. I suddenly remembered that Ilia had always wanted to come here in his attempts to pretend that he was more cultured than he actually was.

Before we reached the ticket inspector, Anton stopped me and quietly said, "You can keep your weapons in here, but don't do anything stupid." I nodded and he led me past the queue towards the bouncer, showed him two small strips of paper that I could only assume were tickets, and said, "He's with me," as he glanced back at me. I kept my weapon by my side and quickly nodded to the burly man in an attempt to seem like I belonged.

I was oddly excited, the new Bolshoy theatre was heralded across the Metro as its cultural capital. While I didn't particularly care for the idea of the theatre in this cruel and unforgiving world – it seeming like a pointless expense to me when others were barely staying alive in the outer stations – it was still something worth seeing.

The bouncer moved out of our way and let us amble through the slightly pointless turnstile that easily turned both ways; it was probably there to give some familiarity to the old world. We pushed our way through the velvet red curtains that led us further down the station's platform and into the theatre itself. The curtained-off hall made grand use of the large station with its high ceiling and wide central platform. Fifteen rows of wooden seating that resembled church pews filled the space but left a narrow aisle in the middle. The bright mercury lamps illuminated the large and well-constructed wooden stage that was mostly covered by even more large and heavy curtains. A small clamshell light lay at the front of the stage and illuminated the curtains. Anton led me down the aisle of the busy theatre to roughly the middle of the seating where we found a row of Red soldiers on the right-hand side. He sat down first and I sat on the outside of the row, putting my bag on the floor and holding my new weapon between my knees.

The theatre was awash with the impatient chatter of the overly privileged audience. I felt completely out of place. I didn't exactly have the hardest life back at Novoslobodskaya, but I felt as though I earned my way through and didn't take much for granted. The clientele here were not of that ilk in the slightest; often this didn't seem to be a rare treat for some of them as I heard some mumblings of hoping that the show would be better than the last one they went to. Others were criticising the long queue but most were having inane conversations with little relevance to the realities of the harsh Metro. It was surreal, as if the bombs had never dropped. The old world seemed born again and these people had welcomed it with open arms, despite the conditions barely a station away.

A man and a woman that stood out to me walked past me through the aisle amongst the slow influx of guests. They didn't seem like either regular Bolshoy visitors nor Red soldiers. The woman's long black hair was well maintained although definitely wasn't perfect. Her clothes were slightly dirty and oddly had a few spider webs stuck to them. She was linking arms with a slightly staggering man wearing a tattered and filthy olive green coat with ripped trousers. He had an impressive AK-74M slung over his shoulder and a small one-strap backpack across his back. His dark brown hair was dirty and matted and I noticed that he had to occasionally hold his side as he walked. I vaguely recognised him but I couldn't think why, until he turned to look at me as he walked by without breaking stride. _Ilia!_ It was only brief, but I saw a slight look of recognition and joy when we looked straight at each other. I was immediately happy but, when I saw his face, I saw what he'd been through to get to me. He was bruised and cut in several places. He looked weary and in pain as he staggered past me being slightly propped up by the beautiful woman he was with. She also showed some levels of exhaustion but had the remnants of makeup and was in significantly better shape than Ilia.

 _How did he get here? How did he find me?_ Questions rushed through my conscious and I wanted so badly to speak to him, but we both knew that we couldn't arouse any suspicion. They walked by and sat where there was space a few rows ahead on the end of the left side. The woman had to help Ilia take his weapon and backpack off before she eased him down onto the seat. I hated seeing him like that. Guilt hit me as I realised that he'd suffered through whatever he had for me, to save my stupid hide.

Absorbed in these thoughts, I almost didn't notice Anton talking to me. "So, how did you do it?" He asked.

I didn't speak for a moment before I snapped out of my trance and, after only barely registering what he asked, replied, "How did I do what?"

"You know, escape from the fascists!" He said excitedly. "I heard that you killed a _demon_!"

I laughed at the exaggeration of the story. "I _scared_ a demon. Any idea how much it takes to kill one of those things?" He shook his head. I indicated towards my shotgun at my feet. "I fired both of these barrels at it and still only just got away from the thing."

"Jesus. Well fucking done."

To pass the time before the show started, I continued to regale him of my partially made-up tales as he watched with awe when I made up heroic feats in the Nazi stations. Despite having to be careful to not make it seem unbelievable, I had some fun with it. As long as I began every part of the story with the phrase, 'as a good communist', he seemed to lap it up. I occasionally glanced over to Ilia and his companion when I got a chance. They looked distinctly nervous and would regularly look back to me. I began to wonder who the woman was; who had he met on his travels? I desperately wanted to go and talk to him but knew I shouldn't, it would ruin my entire story. I simply had to hope that we could find a way to escape together.


	11. Chapter 11 - Culture

Chapter 11: Culture

Ilia – Day 2 – 08:27

The faint crying of a woman outside my room made me immediately sit up and spring my eyes open. The dim bulb that illuminated my temporary bedroom flickered annoyingly as I quickly examined the room. It was only me and the bedroll left. Sofia and my equipment were gone and had been replaced by the indistinct sobbing of a beyond the closed metal door. I could only assume that it was Sofia.

I rushed to the door and attempted to pull the latch up. For some reason, it was much more stiff than it should have been. I had to muster all of my energy to finally wrench it open and accidentally rip it off its fittings. The door slowly opened towards me and showed the darkened corridor with the closed door to the tunnel on my right. The crying continued and I heard bottles loudly clinking together and smashing as they fell to the ground. The hollow echoes of plastic and the clattering of metal receptacles also resonated through the walls.

I unlocked the next door with relative ease and tentatively pulled it open. It revealed my home station of Novoslobodskaya, not the tunnel it once led to. I'd forgotten how clean and bright the civilised Hansa station was. The white electric lights filled me with hope and joy as I briefly shielded my eyes from the sudden glare and bathed in their glory. Under one of the beautifully curved arches before me, the flanking walls being decorated with the incredible Soviet-made and barely discoloured artwork, was my tent; the tent I lived in as a young child with my mother and father. It was exactly as I remembered it; nothing huge, but it made full use of the arch that it was in, even going so far as to attach it to the very top to secure it in place. I stepped through the door and looked at the busy station. People all over the place were going about their usual business and paying me no mind. I looked behind me and found that the corridor I came from had completely disappeared, but I didn't care. The woman's sobbing was suddenly silenced as the hollow clattering of wood falling to the floor sounded through the tent and more bottles of various construction fell over while a strong-smelling clear liquid seeped out from under the tent's entrance flaps. I knew the smell well, mushroom vodka.

I slowly approached the flap and inched it open. Plastic, metal, and broken glass bottles littered the floor and I saw my small wooden chair on its side in the centre of the room, along with a pair of bare, dirty and small feet in mid-air just in front and above it. I moved in and followed the feet up in horror. My mother was hanging by the neck from a short rope in the middle of the tent, where it was attached to the arch for support. Her messy brown hair was soaked in vodka and covered some of her face, but her soulless eyes stared through at me. I screamed at the sight, but not in my usual voice, it was as if I was a child again. My surroundings faded but my mother's body remained where it was as darkness surrounded and enveloped me. I felt so small as she towered over me and I stood helpless and terrified. Her arm juddered and spasmed slightly as her hand curled up so that her index finger was pointing at the floor. She raised her arm in multiple quick and unnatural movements until she was pointing at me. Her mouth slowly opened and she spoke in a slow, layered tone that was much deeper than her normal voice. "Despicable child!"

My eyes shot open as I sat up and screamed in my normal voice again. A small amount of pain rushed through my side but I ignored it as best as I could. A startled Sofia next to me joined my scream and jolted back slightly. I was drenched in sweat as I panted and looked around the temporary bedroom that I found myself back in. The light was on steadily and everything was back to how it had been before. I sat wide-eyed as I tried to make sense of what had happened, I couldn't work it out.

"Ilia!" Sofia shouted, clearly having been trying to get my attention for a while. I quickly turned to look at her extremely concerned face. "What happened? Are you ok?"

It took a moment for me to catch my breath and think about my answer. "Have… Have you always been here?" She nodded as her concern grew. "I mean, while I was asleep, you didn't leave for any reason?"

"I've been sat here the entire time, Ilia."

It felt so real. I remembered the smell of the vodka emanating from the perfect rendition of my tent. The noise of the station, the detail in the room I woke up in. It _had_ to be real. "What's going on?" Sofia asked after, absorbed in my thoughts, I didn't talk for a while.

"It must have been a dream," I eventually conceded. "Unimportant, I guess."

"What was the dream?" She persisted. "Tell me. It's definitely not unimportant."

Realising that she wasn't going to give up, I thought for a moment to remember the details. "I saw my mother." I saw her concern grow further but I continued. "She was hanging from that fucking tent ceiling, staring at me as if it was my fault."

She lifted my hand from the floor and held it gently with both of hers as she looked into my eyes. "It's ok, Ilia. It's not real, it was just a dream."

I ignored her and continued. " _My_ fault. How can she blame me for killing herself? What fucking right does she have?" I started to raise my voice as my anger level rose sharply. "That woman blames me for her shitty coping skills?"

Sofia was slightly taken aback but tried to calm me down. "I'm sure she never blamed you. You were a child, how could she? It was just a bad dream."

"Her eyes said it all! She looked at me with disgust while her selfish fucking body hung there, judging me!" She showed a flicker of fear as I glared at her and spouted my grievances. She let go of my hand and slightly recoiled. "It's not like I could stop her from spending our bullets on her 'special' drink. Yet I get the blame for her being a selfish bitch and taking the easy fucking way out! She ruined my life! I fucking hate her!" Sofia edged further away from me, making me realise that I had been shouting directly at her. I found that my hands were curled into tight fists and my muscles were tensed. I came down from my anger and to my senses by breathing deeply to calm myself down over the next minute. She didn't say a word but instead watched with a slowly dissipating fear as I closed my eyes and let out a final deep breath. I averted my gaze and sheepishly apologised, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it out on you. This is my shit, you don't need it on you."

She breathed a sigh of relief as I returned to normal before she edged closer to me again and put her arm around me. "It's ok. You're stressed, I get it." She stayed there and comforted me for a few minutes before tentatively asking, "Has this always been an issue with you? The dreams, I mean."

"Not the dreams, but my mother has always been a sore point for me."

"I've not noticed anything come of it in general conversation."

I looked away from her and began to stare at the blank wall in front of me as I explained. "That's because no one usually mentions her. You want to know how I learned to fight well enough to beat Ruslan? Through this. People often used to try and hurt me by bringing up her suicide. They saw me as some pathetic baby that couldn't handle itself. They tended not to anymore after the red mist had descended and I'd beaten them to within an inch of their lives." She didn't say anything, but I felt that she was worried, understandably so. "Sorry for not mentioning all of this shit earlier when you said you'd help me. I understand if you'd rather not go with me anymore."

"No, it's ok," she quickly replied. "I don't blame you at all. It's a traumatic experience and you need to people around you rather than people abandoning you." I looked back at her and found her smiling warmly at me. I half-heartedly smiled back as she continued. "Anyway, I owe you a life debt, so I'm going to try and help you through it. I can at least go some way to repaying you for what you did."

We realised later that we had to move on, after some indeterminable amount of time where I tried to calm down and forget the nightmare. We gathered our belongings and left the room. The door to the passage immediately outside our room opened much easier than the same one in the dream and I almost fell over from the force I put behind it. We entered the main tunnel and began our journey towards Revolyutsii. I guided us with my flashlight as we both held our revolvers ready. There likely wouldn't be any trouble but it never hurt to be safe.

"I'm confused," I said as I looked over the huge amounts of fallen and decaying Hansa troops. "I thought that Hansa owned this station during the war?"

Sofia thought for a moment before hitting upon an idea. "I remember hearing that, while the lines didn't move much overall, the Reds did take Revolyutsii over quite often but were always immediately pushed back. These bodies must be from that process."

"That makes sense, I heard that a similar thing happened the other way around at the Lenin Library."

Sofia looked at the destruction across the walls and ceilings along with the numerous bodies and discarded and unusable weapons. "Are you ok with being here, Ilia?"

"Yeah, I'm ok. I'm at peace with my father's end. Barely knew him anyway."

The tunnel was oddly dark and eerily quiet for one as central in the Metro as this one. I guessed that people generally just didn't use it since the passage to Kurskaya was blocked, so there were no mutants to feed on them either. It was simply us, the commuting rats, and the spiders.

I noticed Sofia deep thought as I led the way. Eventually, she said, "We really don't want to go into Revolyutsii."

"But I have to," I snapped. I wasn't about to come all of this way to just turn away now. "I'm not abandoning Alex."

"I'm not suggesting that. I think I know another way," she quickly replied. Regretting my reaction, I apologised and let her continue. "We can avoid Revolyutsii and go straight for Teatral'naya."

"Are we planning on seeing a show or something?" I joked with a small amount of confusion as to her plan.

"Teatral'naya is only really open to us-" she hesitated before remembering her situation. "To the communists. Sounds the same as Revolyutsii, but it's much easier to get into and look like you belong in the theatre than in there. It would be so much easier to get from the theatre to Revolyutsii than just going straight for Revolyutsii."

"So we bypass it and go in from the other side as if we already belong?"

She nodded. "It still won't be easy, but it will be easier." I agreed with this plan and we continued down the decrepit tunnel.

A disheartening tunnel collapse blocked our path, but we noticed an old train carriage in its corner that ran right through. We moved up to it and noticed the flakes of rust that had fallen off the carriage's open door. Someone had been through recently. I illuminated the inside and scared off dozens of spiders that were forming webs across it. The seats were covered in the opaque webbing but the central aisle was nearly completely clear, another sign of someone's presence, hopefully Alex's. Sofia climbed up first and painfully helped me up through the door. As we moved through the occasional spider web, we noticed the skeletons in various positions at their times of death around the carriage. I tried not to think about it but Sofia was clearly having a harder time. I gently pushed her forward and we quickly exited out of the other door. We saw a discarded length of pipe on the floor nearby that was covered in spider webs and had clearly only been left there in the last few hours.

We moved further through the tunnel until Sofia pointed out a door on the right wall and said, "I think that's it."

"Are you sure?"

"No. But it looks like the place I've heard about."

We slowly moved over to it as I asked, "How do you know about this way?"

"I've lived on the Red Line for almost all of my life, that's twenty-three years of hearing stories that other soldiers told my father and brother. The watches would change regularly as people were transferred from station to station. Several of the soldiers mentioned this route that they used to smuggle people into and out of the Red Line."

I was fairly satisfied with this answer and we reached the door. It opened with ease and revealed an unlit and narrow passageway. It showed some level of use, but nothing regular and certainly nothing recently. Alex must have gone straight for Revolyutsii; I was tempted to argue that we should just follow his perceived route, but eventually decided against it after actually thinking about the implications.

The corridor itself was relatively uninteresting, anything of value had been scavenged long ago and all that was left was the decomposing concrete and miscellaneous pipes of the passageway. We were careful and silent as we moved down it, only using my flashlight sparingly so as to try to not alert anyone that might have been coming the other way.

It took some time, but we made it through to a doorway that had no door on its hinges. Instead, a large section of rusting blue scrap metal covered it completely. Holstering my weapon and getting Sofia to shine my light on it, I gently pushed it forward to look through. Warm light flooded in and I could hear the gentle murmurings of a busy station. The passage opened into an old train carriage and the metal 'doorway' had been cut out of its side to disguise it. Quickly, we pushed it opened and rushed in before replacing the cover. We found ourselves overlooking a small alleyway through a cramped area full of hastily constructed but nevertheless large buildings. Making sure all of our weapons and equipment were as non-threatening as possible, we moved to the end of the carriage where an open door led down to the alley. Two Red soldiers rushed past us, not paying attention to anything around them.

Wait. One of them wasn't a Red soldier. His clothes, his run, and his general look seemed familiar. _Alex!_ I turned back to Sofia and quietly but excited said, "That was Alex! Let's follow him!"

"Ok, ok. We can't draw attention to ourselves, though," she quickly replied.

I reluctantly agreed and we briskly walked after them. We quickly lost sight but could hear their loud boots stomping on the ground as they found their way through the tight streets of the wealthy station. We eventually made it to a large entrance hall to the 'Bolshoy' theatre. Alex and his companion had just got past the ticket inspector and moved through the heavy curtains into the theatre.

Without thinking about it, I quickly moved to the back of the five-person long queue and turned to the following Sofia. "I'm going in, I don't mind if you don't want to spend the money to come in as well."

"Nonsense! I've wanted to see this place for ages."

"Me too, you know. I've heard about it from traders, it sounds amazing."

The queue moved relatively fast as those that had been before paid their respective amounts quickly and those that couldn't afford it simply left the queue in a huff. My side was flaring up again from the chase as the quick walking had turned into more of a jog at the end and put some stress on it. I wanted to sit down but there was no seating nearby; Sofia had to help me but quickly realised it looked a bit strange and so linked arms with me to pretend that we were going as a couple. In a couple of minutes, we reached the front.

"Six Bullets," the bouncer said bluntly in his gruff voice as he sized us up. Thinking that it was surprisingly cheap for the remade Bolshoi, I handed him the six bullets and prepared to move on before he put his hand out to stop us. "Each." I was about to complain at the ridiculous price, but Sofia seemed to sense it and quickly handed him six of her bullets so that we could get in without a fuss.

She helped me stagger through the heavy curtain and we came to the large and famous theatre. Despite the reasoning for my presence, I was excited to finally be there. I'd wanted to go there for so long just to experience some old traditional theatre since I was too young to appreciate it before the bombs dropped. We had no idea what was on that day, but it was sure to be something good based on the venue's reputation alone.

We slowly moved through the central aisle and looked for Alex, quickly spotting him on the end of a row towards the middle of the right-hand set of seating. I did want to try and sit next to him, but he was on a row of Red soldiers so there was no way that was going to happen. I worried about what he had gotten himself into. Why was he with those soldiers? Where did he get the weapons and equipment at his feet? Surely he wouldn't have been as crazy as to join the Red Army. I looked at him as I walked by and caught his eye. He was in much better shape than I was expecting, he barely looked different from when I'd last seen him at the hands of the Reich. He seemed slightly world-wearier but otherwise ok. I felt relief at that as he gave me a quick and subtle smile. I knew that we wouldn't be able to talk so I didn't break stride, but I whispered to Sofia amongst the rabble of the crowd, "I saw him. I fucking saw him!"

"Great," she whispered back. "Let's get a seat and plan." I agreed and we found a couple of spaces at the end of a row a couple of rows ahead of him on the left-hand side. She took my bag and AK and helped me sit before placing the bag at my feet and my AK between my legs.

"Thanks for helping me pathetically walk," I said with a grin once we were settled. I glanced back at Alex who was occasionally glancing back at me. I could see that he didn't want to be there but his companion seemed to be plucking up some sort of courage to talk to him.

"Well, you _should_ really be resting all of those wounds, but that's not really an option so this is the next best thing." She warmly smiled and put her arm around me so that we could whisper closer. "Which one is he, then?" I described him and subtly pointed my head in his direction as he chatted to his new friend. "Right. Any ideas?"

"Absolutely none," I said with a sigh. "Looks like he's got himself in with the Reds somehow."

"They're not exactly known for letting people desert."

"Yeah, and I'd prefer it if none of us were executed."

"It would be nice," we both lightly grinned before going into a silence while we thought. "Maybe we should wait until after the show, then see where he goes and see if an opportunity presents itself."

I nodded in vague agreement as I tried to come up with a better plan but came up blank. "Plus, we get to see the show this way," I said with a grin once I finally conceded.

She laughed. "Exactly. Win, win."

We settled in and waited for a few minutes while the final seats filled out. My thoughts drifted to Alex. I was so glad to see him ok, even if I was slightly jealous that I had apparently suffered much greater pain than him. Relief washed over me when I realised that this endeavour wasn't completely hopeless. I'd been through so much to get to him and I was terrified that he might have succumbed to the hardship and misery of the Metro. Through a string of help, my own determination, and ultimately luck, we'd come together in Teatral'naya. Now all we had to do was figure out how to leave together.

Out of a lack of any constructive ideas, I reflected on how much money the theatre must have made. The whole theatre was full and, from what we could work out from overhearing other people's conversations, it seemed as though these performances were regular and often full. I worked out that if 100 people went, slightly fewer than were actually crammed in the theatre, then they would have made 600 bullets for the show. _Six hundred._ I couldn't fathom that amount of money. Even trying to imagine them split into magazines of thirty didn't make it any less incomprehensible, and even that was much less than what they actually would have made.

After some time, a staff member moved down the aisle and put out the mercury lamps lighting the seating area up and the crowd's chatter slowly subsided. The curtains were slowly drawn with a quiet high-pitched squeak as a jaunty piano tune started up. The open curtain revealed a mostly empty stage with an old grand piano on the right being played by an old man who was relatively well dressed but in darkness and so was quite hard to see. Five scantily clad women entered the stage from either side, all of the same height with the same long black hair and slim build, and began to dance skillfully in a line in time with the fast music as an enticing introduction to the show. They mixed traditional dances with ones that they were clearly more unfamiliar with as they eventually settled into a background dance while a well-groomed and sharply dressed middle-aged man in a suit confidently strode onto the stage.

His deep voice boomed over the music and the tapping of feet behind him. "Welcome, fellow theatre lovers, to my new opera! I have dedicated it to the great Comrade Moskvin in honour of his continued successes in unifying the Metro." I glanced over to Sofia and just managed to catch her rolling her eyes in the extremely dim lighting. "Witness now, the physical and psychological struggle of… _One Man and His Demons_!" He bowed before leaving the stage, shortly followed by the five women peeling off one-by-one to their respective stage exits.

We were subjected to three long hours of this opera, though it felt like a lifetime as every second ticked painfully by without any respite. We sat through unconvincing actors in terrible costumes trying to play demons, themes that were either so subtle that they were intangible and pointless or were blaringly obvious and simple, and the unintelligible screeching that they tried to pass off as opera singing. I'd heard that opera was hard to understand in the first place, but this didn't seem anything like the old operas that I'd been told of in the real Bolshoi Theatre.

The story followed a man who had a dark past, although they never even hinted at what that past was, who had to live with figurative demons as well as travelling across the surface and fending off real demons. I never did work out what his end goal was. Both the real demons and figurative demons were represented by the same actors so it got quite confusing when, at the end of the play, he pulled a machine gun on a figurative demon and killed it, only to have it come back a scene later as a real one that he somehow killed in the same way. It was clear that neither the director nor the actors had ever come across a real demon and I desperately wanted to correct them on how easy they seemed to think they were to kill. Maybe I was just bitter that we'd paid twelve bullets to get in, but I resented the whole thing.

At the end, the director came back on stage with the entire cast of undeservedly happy actors and signed it off. "Thank you all so much for coming and lighting up this small section of the dark Metro!" He bellowed. "You are all so beautiful and so wondrous! Nothing can hurt us when we share this love!" I thought to myself, _I have an AK that begs to differ._ "Thank you, Teatr! Thank you!" Him and the entire cast bowed several times before the piano played them off, accompanied by the excited clapping of the crowd's standing ovation, before someone turned on the individual mercury lamps in the aisle.

Sofia and I nodded to each other with determination before quickly standing up and moving into the aisle. She had to help me to my feet slightly, but we made it before anyone else. Alex and I stared longingly at each other as we approached and were pushed to move faster from behind. We reached their row and politely let them go before us so that we could follow directly behind.

Alex's companion was saying complimentary things about the opera before they moved in front of us and said, "Now, onto Okhotny Ryad. You, me, and two others are going with a supply train to Lubyanka from there."

 _Lubyanka?_ He couldn't go back there. Surely he only just got out of there alive last time he was there. His noncommittal responses and general demeanour showed that he did not want to go with them.

We tried to follow as soon as they got out of the aisle but the rest of the row barged in front of us, partially due to social conventions but mostly due to the grizzled soldiers' arrogance. Alex and his companion rushed off through the exit of the theatre along with those in front of them. We tried to push through the crowd, but it was difficult to keep sight of them as they moved through opened curtains of the narrow doorway and people started impatiently trying to push through, often accidentally jabbing my side and causing a significant amount of pain that I desperately tried to ignore as we pushed through the arch. The crowd's mutterings seemed to indicate that they were pleased with the so-called opera. I couldn't see how; I thought it was rubbish.

We left the theatre and followed Alex. They got easier to spot as the crowd dispersed across the station's platform to go to their various homes and commitments, but we still had to walk quickly to keep up with their urgency. They moved through the small market area and avoided the various peddlers on both sides trying to rip them off in various ways. Their goal seemed to be a set of escalators on the far side of the station which presumably led to the Teatral'naya-Okhotny Ryad transfer tunnel.

As we closed the gap, I started to overhear their conversation.

"So, as a good communist, I broke the first Nazi's nose as I shot his friend with his own shotgun." Alex said, utterly entrancing his companion in his clearly made up stories. "The final one just ran away once I stared at him for long enough." I found listening in oddly enjoyable, he hadn't changed much and I liked that; life suddenly felt slightly more normal.

We continued to listen to his ridiculous alleged feats and, after a few minutes, the pair reached the open vestibule and began to move up it. By this point, it was only us two following Alex and his escort even relatively closely so we had to move far enough back to not draw suspicion. I noticed the unfamiliar man glancing back at us a few times but I didn't think much of it as we moved through the tunnel that was cluttered with the living areas of the moderately well-off.

After moving up the escalators at the end of the tunnel that led to the station, we emerged in the centre of the station and noticed that, being less of a tourist hotspot, the Okhotny Ryad station was much less well-kept than that of Teatral'naya. The square-patterned ceiling was covered in copious amounts of soot and the whole platform was much more militarised since this station was a part of the actual Red Line and had a direct link the the Nazis. Red Army soldiers were rushing back and forth, trying desperately to complete their jobs before they were reprimanded for being sloths. I took note of the available exits of the station. It was a relatively open platform since few people lived there but the space was mostly taken up by personnel and supplies. Over these, however, I could easily see that there were routes to the surface on both sides of the station through unmoving escalators. A few doors were seemingly randomly placed along the walls across from the tracks of both sides of the station and unfortunately seemed like they were in regular use from their clear pathways and clean hinges.

As soon as we reached the final step up, Alex's companion stepped out in front of us.

"This is a restricted area. Who are you?" He sternly asked. Alex was a few paces behind him, having only just noticed that he had stopped to face us. I noticed he was somehow holding his Bastard gun despite him losing it to the Nazis. No, it was much too clean, it must have been new. He clearly just liked that style of weapon.

Surprised by the confrontation, I hesitated and stuttered before finally saying, "Just travellers. We were exploring Teatr and ended up here."

"Let me see your documents." The man glanced back at Alex, who gave him a smile that thinly veiled worry.

"We'll just go. Sorry for intruding."

I began to walk off but he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back to him. "Let me see your documents," he repeated with growing frustration. Alex moved towards him as we fumbled for an answer and the man pulled the machine gun from his shoulder, beginning to grip it as threateningly as possible without going as far as to point it at me. He glared at me with a piercing stare of growing anger and mistrust. I pretended to search through my pockets as I thought of a plan, but when neither of us could come up with anything, the soldier said, "Sergei, grab the girl. We'll take them for questioning."

I didn't know who he was talking to until Alex started to move towards Sofia after a moment of himself clearly forgetting as well. Despite the peril, I was oddly proud of Alex for having thought to give a fake name. Alex nodded and held his weapon close as he tentatively approached her. I noticed him slowly and quietly load it with a full clip of military grade rounds behind the soldier's back. He didn't pull the slide back yet as that would cause too much noise. I noticed the blast door at the far end of the station slowly began to open, we could only presume that a surface team was either heading out or coming back. "Any time today would be good," said the impatient soldier still staring at me.

Alex trembled slightly as he lifted his weapon and aimed its wooden stock at the soldier's head. He hesitated for a moment before finally yelling, "Run!" and slamming the heavy stock into the side of his companion's head.

We didn't think about what had happened, we just bolted for the escalators to the surface at the far end of the platform as the soldier collapsed before us. The surprised soldiers all around us fumbled to find weapons that they'd left in various places as they were bored from the previous lack of action. I swung my AK from my back to my hands and held it tight as Sofia pulled out her revolver and Alex clumsily pulled the oddly satisfying slide back on his replacement Bastard. The garrison force got their act together and opened fire as we ducked into a group of large supply crates. The station was awash with officers shouting 'cease fire' as we'd run into the middle of an ammunition dump that could have blown up the entire station.

The crates were in a disorganised mess and made navigating the maze a near impossible task. We had to keep an eye on the ceiling to make sure we were heading in the right direction. We could hear boots stomping around the platform and the various orders being barked by a clearly confusing command chain.

We suddenly exited the supply crates and found ourselves in front of the slowly closing blast door. Two guards stood in our path but a quick burst of fire from my AK soon made them run for cover on one side of the door. They ineffectually fired at us but we kept running, ignoring every instinct telling us to be terrified of the bullets skipping along the ground at our feet from multiple panicked sources.

We made it through the door while it still had a way to go before it was fully closed and charged up the escalators. I fell behind a bit as I couldn't run as fast and I was repeatedly checking the opening. When someone appeared in the narrowing entrance, I fired an inaccurate burst at them, causing two bullets to hit him in one leg. He screamed in pain and collapsed just shy of the doorway, effectively blocking it off as it finally closed. I turned back to follow Alex and Sofia as they were putting their gas masks on while running up the escalator. I did the same, feverishly looking at the door behind me, just in case the Reds began to open it again.

When I reached the very top, the door made pained whines as it began to open, having probably gotten more use than it ever had had before. Alex and Sofia waited for me as they stared at the collapsed road that shouldn't have been at our level. We were in a tunnel that split to the left and right to stairs that led to the street level. The wall that should have been in front of us was completely open and showed that the earth below the road had crumbled and given way so that the road was in an unnatural ditch of radioactive and half-frozen water.

I reached the pair and tried to catch my breath, but we heard shouting from behind the creaking door, so we had to move quickly. We went for the right set of half-intact stairs and rushed up them to street level. The light was nearly blinding again but the numerous grey, depressing clouds stopped us from going completely blind.

I quickly glanced around our surroundings and immediately noticed the Kremlin's walls on my periphery before turning back to face the opposite direction as fast as possible. "Do not fucking turn around. The Kremlin's right behind us!" I commanded, noticing how strange it felt to talk through the muffling gasmask.

Alex nodded but Sofia asked, "Why? What's so bad about the Kremlin?"

"We've only heard stories from our stalkers, but they say that if you look at the Kremlin's stars then you'll go mad or something. I don't really know, but I'm not going to risk it."

She agreed and we moved a small amount down the road before Sofia stopped. "Fucking hell," she exclaimed in awe as she looked directly upwards. "How high does it go?"

"The sky?" I asked between breaths. She nodded, engrossed in the sight, and I just said, "Forever, I think."

Boots started to rush up the escalator down below so I grabbed her arm and said, "We have to go," before pulling her away from her trance and rushing down the still street. Alex followed as we didn't think about where we were going and simply moved away from the Kremlin. We quickly clambered over some rubble that once formed an archway to a side street between destroyed buildings. The blockage wasn't too high but, in my haste and weariness, I slipped on some loose debris, fell onto my back and painfully slid down to the bottom. It hit the bruising around my wound and I winced through the pain as I collapsed to the floor. My breathing became laboured as I noticed my gas mask's visor begin to gather moisture. I lost my energy to move and carry my heavy equipment so I just laid in place and tried to muster up any possible energy.

I could hear the shouting of the Red Army hunters as Alex and Sofia reached me and hurriedly pulled me up to my feet by my arms. Alex pulled my arm around him and hauled me down the narrow street as Sofia searched for anywhere to briefly hole up. I let out a heavy cough and realised that my mask's filter must have been wearing down. We staggered to the end of the street and came to a once-grand five storey apartment building. None of its windows were in place and most of its architecture was unrecognisable but we could tell that the brickwork was once very impressive. As it stood, however, it was simply one of the more intact buildings in the area.

Sofia shoulder barged through the wooden front doors which broke apart with ease and surprised her. She pulled out her revolver and quickly scanned the entrance hallway before beckoning us into the safety. My coughing was getting heavier, more frequent, and more painful as my sight was being obscured by more condensation across my visor. We stumbled through the doorway as Sofia moved through the decrepit reception and checked out the first room. She jimmied open the flimsy door and quietly called us in once she'd quickly checked that it was clear. We moved into the surprisingly small living area. The whole thing had been looted of any electrical equipment and everything else had been ruined by whoever had done it.

Alex eased me onto the dilapidated sofa and crouched to my level as I continued coughing. "What's up with you, man?" He asked with concern

I struggled and wriggled uncomfortably to get my bag off and push it towards him. Between my deep coughs, I managed to say, "Filter… In there… Please."

He quickly understood and reached into my bag to find the small filter at the very bottom. I held my breath as he quickly unscrewed the filter on my gas mask and replaced it with the new one. The sound of the plastic rubbing up against plastic was amplified in my gas mask to the point where it was uncomfortably loud. As soon as the filter was sealed in place, Alex gave me a concerned thumbs-up and I took in a much air as possible as I held my chest and sank into the sofa.

"Thanks," I weakly said after I'd taken a few breaths. It took just over a minute of concerned silence, but I eventually stood up and smiled with glee at Alex, though he couldn't see much of it through the mask. I spread my arms open and moved into a big hug, our gas masks' filters collided at first but we navigated around them and simply embraced until my wound got too painful and I had to stop and sit back down as I groaned a little. "It's so fucking good to see you," I said as I relaxed slightly.

"Same, man. I can't believe we finally found each other." He glanced over my slightly pathetic situation and said, "No offence, but you look like shit. What happened to you?"

I let out a small laugh. "You know," I showed him each of my wounds chronologically as I went through each of them, "Nazis, demons, watchers, bandits, fights to the death. The usual."

He sat down next to me and briefly examined each of them. "Christ. I'm so sorry, Ilia. I can't believe I got you into this."

"It's alright. When we get back, consider us even for you putting up with me all of these years." I smirked, though he couldn't see it, as I noticed him glance up at Sofia. "Sorry, you guys haven't met. This is Sofia."

"Nice to meet-" He cut himself off as he showed a look of deep thought and confusion. "Sofia?" She nodded tentatively. "Ever been to Lubyanka?"

She glanced at me and I shrugged with confusion. _Where's he going with this?_

She hesitated but nervously said, "I used to live there. Why?"

"Sofia Fedorova?"

Her eyes briefly widened. "How do you know that?"

"You're the daughter of Mikhail and Elena, and Boris's sister?!"

"Yeah. How on earth do you know them?"

"They helped me out at Lubyanka and asked me to make sure you were safe. Really nice people."

She moved closer to him and lowered herself down to our level on the sofa. "They're ok?! That's great news!"

"As fine as they can be in Lubyanka. How did you and Ilia even come across each other?"

I was going to give a modest recollection of the story, but Sofia jumped in before I got a chance to speak. "In Kitay-Gorod, a horrible place by the way, there's a fighting ring where the contestants fight to the death." Alex glanced at me with an eyebrow raised. "I don't know what they win normally, but Ilia fought the best fighter they'd ever had. It was so tense with punches and kicks flying all over the place, but Ilia had him on the ropes. That's when the guy pulled a fucking knife on him, totally against the rules by the way. Luckily, Ilia was prepared with his own knife, so they fought like that for a while until Ilia beat the shit out of him and won me my freedom from the horrible station leader."

Alex nodded along as he listened intently before looking over to me. "Damn, Ilia. That's pretty cool."

I shrugged. "It _did_ also fuck me up even more than before."

"Yeah, he's had a rough time," Sofia added.

"I can see that," Alex replied, looking me up and down once more. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm conscious right now and that's all that matters," I answered, realising that there wasn't much point in complaining right now since nothing could be done. "We should move off soon, I don't know how long we have left on these filters."


	12. Chapter 12 - Escape

Chapter 12: Escape

Alexandr – Day 2 – 12:34

I wasn't convinced by Ilia's vague confidence in himself but he was right, we had to move. He counted the rounds left in the magazine of the jealousy-inducing AK-74M. "Fourteen rounds," he said as he noticed my homemade assault rifle. "How many have you got for that?"

I showed him the weapon's open magazine, displaying the clean military grade rounds, and said, "Nothing standard. Only military rounds."

He thought for a moment. "Pop those out. I've got forty-four rounds altogether, we can split them and not waste your money." I agreed and we spent a few minutes transferring rounds from one magazine to another.

I turned to Sofia and looked at her little revolver. "You want my shotgun? Might do better in an emergency."

She jokingly shrugged. "If you're offering, I'm not going to turn it down." I untied it from my bag and showed her how to load it and how the triggers worked before handing it to her. She got comfortable with it before clearly remembering something, swinging the weapon over her shoulder, and reaching into her pocket while excitedly saying, "I believe I have a present for you as well." I stayed silent as I tried to work out what it could be. I'd only just met this person, how could she possibly have gotten me something?

She pulled out a large bullet and held it out in front of me. Initially shooting her a confused look, I looked more closely and glee took over my face. "My lighter!" I quickly snatched it from her hands and asked, "How did you get it?"

"It was in a little service room in the Kurskaya-Revolyutsii tunnel."

Barely listening to her answer, I excitedly flicked the lighter on a few times and stared into the warm orange flame. Her words finally registered and I stopped as I realised that we may have been closer than I thought at one point. "You… you didn't come down the corridor talking about being tired, did you?" She nodded and slowly confirmed with some intrigue as Ilia leant in to listen more closely. I put my hand on my face and said, "Fuck. I ran away from you guys!" We burst into hysterical laughter and joked about it for a time. It wasn't even particularly funny, we were just ecstatic to finally be together so everything seemed oddly hilarious.

Eventually, we decided to make a plan for where to go. I remembered that I'd been supplied with a small map of the metro so I pulled it out of my bag and held it out in one hand in front of them. Our goal was definitely Novoslobodskaya, but we only knew it's vague direction from where we were. We had no other plans, so we simply had to head where we thought we could go. We left the building, having to help Ilia slightly to get him up off the sofa, and moved into the street. I was impressed with Ilia, I couldn't work out how he was able to stand at all after looking at his extensive wounds. I couldn't wait to hear the full stories behind each of them. Plus, he'd snagged a capable and beautiful woman to boot.

I noticed Ilia observe every inch of the street and could practically see cogs turning in his head as he tried to remember something. He moved just past our building and looked down an even smaller side street before letting out a small gasp of recognition and turning back to us.

"I was here yesterday!" He exclaimed quietly as he pointed at the building at the end of the smaller street. "That's the _real_ Bolshoi Theatre!" He then pointed further down the street we were on, "This should lead to the Nazi stations and, I assume, Hansa stations from there."

"Brilliant!" I said as we began to follow his lead. "Let's try to avoid the Nazis this time though, I don't fancy another trip to Lubyanka." Ilia chuckled in agreement. On mentioning Lubyanka, I remembered that Sofia was from the terrible station. I moved up next to her with Ilia on her other side. "Did you not want to go back home?"

She raised a condescending eyebrow. "To Lubyanka? You've been there, you know how awful it is."

"Yeah, but don't you miss your family?"

She had a brief moment of solemn thought before she sighed and said, "I do, but even if I wanted to go back, I couldn't. I'm happy that they're safe, that's enough for me."

"Hey guys," Ilia interrupted quietly. "Might want to keep your voices down. I came across a pack of watchers around here. They're these furry mutants that live up here and are really dangerous."

"Bit like wolves?" I asked to confirm that I'd also come across these so-called watchers.

"Yeah, scary stuff, right?"

"I just showed mine who was boss," I replied bravely. "Fired my shotgun towards them and scared them off. Didn't touch me after that."

"How did you know that would work?" Ilia asked as he tried to hide his astonishment.

"I noticed their wolf-like behaviour so I thought I'd try something that works against them."

He chuckled. "Who knew that those old wildlife books would actually be useful?" I simply laughed and agreed. I was going to bring up that he claimed that there was no point reading them at the time, but I decided that I would rub his face in it once we were back home.

We came to a crossroads and quickly checked each direction. When we saw no threats, Ilia told us that he had gone vaguely right and he came across the pack of watchers, so we headed left and back to the main road where he claimed that he could get us on the right track.

We jumpily checked every window of each ruined building we walked by. Any noises, even sometimes just the wind, made us aim our arsenal at where we thought the noise had come from, often ending up with us pointing in completely different directions. After my encounter with the demon the last time I was on the surface, I didn't want to take any chances and Ilia seemed to have had his fair share of horrible experiences on the surface as well.

When I was in a group in the tunnels I always felt relatively safe. Never completely safe, of course, but safe enough that I could let my guard down slightly. Here, however, it was like we were constantly being watched. Small piles of rubble would noisily fall, icicles would fall off the tops of buildings dragging a handful of snow with them, and sometimes the intact building work of nearby structures would spontaneously fall apart. We didn't see any culprits for any of this, but it felt as though these noises were following us. Any noises we made ourselves became amplified in our minds. The rattling of our equipment, our heavy breaths through our gas masks' filters, and the crunch of our footsteps on the ice and snow. I hadn't noticed it last time, possibly because I was hopelessly naïve about what I would encounter, but every tiny noise made me cringe and worry.

We reached the end of the road and came across the main road. Ilia stopped us as he moved up to the wall of a building on the corner. He slowly peered around but immediately hid back behind the wall, eyes wide in terror. He looked over to us and extremely quietly whispered, "Demon. Up there," while pointing up, indicating that it was perched on a building on the other side of the road.

Equally quietly, I whispered, "Has it," while pointing in the same direction, "seen," while pointing two fingers at my eyes, "us?" while indicating to all of us in a circle.

Ilia nervously shook his head before he leant up against the wall. He lowered his weapon to his side, closed his eyes and breathed out, his warm breath thickly condensing in front of his filter before quickly dissipating. He suddenly seemed in pain as he grimaced and held his side, as if the mere sight of the demon had caused his wound to flare up.

Sofia moved closer to him and put her hand on his shoulder while whispering, "Are you ok?"

He thought for a moment before nodding determinedly and gripping his rifle in both hands again, clearly trying to act braver than he felt. He'd clearly been left with something of a phobia from his previous encounter with a demon, or perhaps just the hauntingly bad opera about them.

The creature's huge wings beat loudly, sending a shiver down my spine as Sofia and I joined Ilia in backing up against the wall and holding our weapons close and at the ready. With enough warning, I felt that we could potentially take it down if we used all of our weapons and probably most of our ammunition, though I didn't particularly want to try. The demon's ominous sounds drew closer but still remained far away as we caught it flying directly overhead and away from us. We remained perfectly still and held our breath as it moved away from us. Its distant roar was soon accompanied by the loud cry of a watcher.

Seeing Ilia somewhat paralysed, I moved past both him and Sofia to move onto the main street. "Seems clear," I whispered to them as I diligently checked up and down the massive road that was littered with car husks. I beckoned them to follow me as I moved out, keeping to the closest wall and constantly checking my surroundings. Sofia quietly muttered some comforting words to Ilia as she gently pulled him along behind me. He tried to act as if he wasn't bothered but was mostly unsuccessful.

We quickly moved down the street, weaving through rusting cars while trying to stay as close to the buildings on the right side of the street as possible. The whines and whimpers of the watcher being eaten by the demon in the distance continued for a little while but were soon silenced once the demon finally showed mercy to its food.

The howls of dozens of watchers resonated through the landscape from the demon's direction. Footsteps pounded towards us and we all froze in place to listen to them. I nervously glanced at our surroundings before deciding that we should get out of sight. The building next to us was little more than a grey, destroyed husk, but it would do. "In here," I ordered as I jumped through one of the windows and hid from the street behind the building's wall. Sofia quickly guided Ilia through another window and they also hid as the footsteps thundered towards us.

The numerous creatures rushed onto the road and charged down it towards our destination. I glanced around and saw at least fifty of them skillfully leaping across cars and over rubble blockages. One of them definitely noticed me as I hurriedly moved back into cover, but it didn't react, it just kept running. Sofia did the same and the watchers just ignored her as well. I was extremely confused until a demon – possibly the same one – swooped down and picked one of them up by its huge claws. It carried the terrified creature off and dropped it from a great height further down the road. There was a skin-crawling snap as several of the watcher's bones broke and it died instantly.

The footsteps died down as the horde rushed away from the demon and it carried the meal back to its nest on top of a nearby building. I poked my head out and saw it busy at the edge of a relatively intact high-rise tower. It must have been feeding its young as it ripped chunks out of the watcher's body and placed them in a small pile of dirt and soil on top of the building.

Ilia gulped and timidly said, "We should… We should keep moving." I could hear a slight quiver in his voice as he spoke.

"Agreed," I replied. "The demon's not looking towards us. We can sneak by if we're quiet. I'll go first." They nodded as I checked the street and hopped out of the window.

"Ilia, we'll be fine," Sofia softly whispered once I'd left. "We're not going to let the same thing happen to you again."

It didn't take long for them to follow me out. Ilia still wasn't as confident as I was used to him being, but he showed a form of renewed strength. While he was never the kind of person to cockily enter a situation with delusions of grandeur about how well it would go, he would usually have more of a pragmatic sense of calm than this; it wasn't nice seeing Ilia so outwardly scared of something and it affected my morale to a certain extent.

I led us carefully down the road as we all kept an eye on the demon. We could have gone through buildings or down a side road, but this was already taking longer than we would have liked so we couldn't spare the time. We moved across from the demon's building. The feeling of our sounds being amplified only grew as we advanced and were painfully aware of any sound made by us, the demon or even the general environment.

The demon stopped its feeding and froze. Immediately noticing this, we hid behind a car and watched through the glassless windows. It quickly turned and looked towards us, scanning the environment around us intensely. We kept our breathing to a minimum and froze in place, not even daring to get more out of its line of sight just in case it noticed the movement. I heard Ilia starting to whimper in pain slightly as he lowered his weapon and held his side again. I desperately hoped that he would quieten down, but I couldn't do anything about it.

Once again, the demon flew off and circled the area around us, leaving us in a brief relative peace. I moved over to Ilia and looked him in the eyes. "Ilia," I quietly but sternly began. "What's going on? We need you on top form here."

I saw deep sorrow and regret in his eyes as he replied, "I'm so sorry. I can't do this. I can't deal with this." He started to hyperventilate as he sat back against the car and clutched his wound.

We had to deal with this fast since we were now on two time limits, the most prominent being the demon was going to come back soon, but also our filters wouldn't last forever. Also, his heavy breathing was going to severely reduce his filter's life. "Come on, man," I began as I improvised an uplifting speech. "We need you with us. You can do it. You've done things that most people would never be able to do." It was difficult to talk about his accomplishments since I'd only heard minor details about everything he'd done thus far.

Fortunately, Sofia spoke up. "Ilia, not many people can say they survived what you've been through. Demons, watchers, Nazis, all of that, and then go on to fight the strongest person in a station almost dedicated to fighting and fucking win. You can do this. I know it."

His eyes flicked between us for a moment. I didn't think that we'd convinced him and I was about to continue on when he took a deep breath and clutched his weapon with both hands again. "Ok. If you say so," he said noncommittally. It was better than nothing.

The demon's wings were still loudly beating far away, so I led the way down the road again with Ilia following and Sofia at the rear. We managed to move past the nest without issue. Being as careful and quiet as we were, it was slow going. We eventually came to a wide-open area in amongst the buildings. The road continued straight in between two once-green parks, one of which housed an empty plinth with its fallen statue frozen over next to it. I could see a couple of entrances to metro stations across the area and I was filled with hope that we'd made it.

Completely dissipating this hope, Ilia pointed to one of them and said, "Pushkinskaya." He pointed to a nearby metal grate. "I came out of it there when you were sent to Lubyanka. We should keep an eye out for Nazis." We moved through the square as quickly as possible while still being careful and quiet.

We didn't have much of an idea of where we were going, but we just kept going down the road and hoped to find a metro station. Past the Nazi stations, there wasn't much bad. We had the choice of reaching Mayakovska, from which we could get to Belorusskaya, to the ring line, and then back home, or we could end up back at Tsvetnoy Bulvar which, as we knew, wasn't too far from Novoslobodskaya. I would have preferred to not go back to Tsvetnoy Bulvar, but it seemed like a better option than spending more time on the surface.

We made decent progress as we moved further down. We hid when we heard noises, moved quicker when those noises were behind us, and generally kept an eye out for any dangers. Through our care, we made it to another clearing and an indistinct metro station in the floor of a large pathway. We rushed down the frozen stairs and quickly came to the hermetic door at the bottom.

Sofia and I kept watch as Ilia slung his AK over his shoulder and loudly banged on the door with his fist. I hated it as I felt that it would draw monsters towards us, but it had to be done. He left it for a couple of minutes before trying again. No answer.

"Uninhabited?" He asked after a few more tries.

"Is there a manual unlock?" Sofia asked without looking back, nervous about the potential of looming mutants.

Visibility wasn't easy at the bottom of the stairs. A small amount of light came in from the overcast day, but Ilia had to use his flashlight to search the walls for anything that could help us. He frantically searched for a while, before saying, "There's this thing." He shined the light on a large metal box with a vertical lever attached to it in the up position. Next to the lever was an off red light and an illuminated green light above it. He tentatively pulled it down, it offering some resistance before it finally gave way and let him manipulate it. The green light turned off to be replaced by the red light below. Nothing happened for a while but during Ilia's defeated sigh, the door started to creak and moan as its decaying mechanisms burst into life. "Yes!" Ilia said excitedly. The door's screeching echoed through the stairwell and Ilia readied his weapon.

The door creaked open towards us. Ilia checked through the door as Sofia and I watched the stairwell. Once the door had opened fully, Ilia checked for a way to close it from the inside before beckoning us in. We obliged as he pulled another lever and the door started to loudly close again.

Our guard lowered slightly until we heard the all-too-familiar howl of nearby watchers. We willed the door to close faster but it wasn't happening. Ilia swore repeatedly as we started to hear the horde's footsteps approaching. The door was half closed but the watchers appeared at the top. They rushed down as fast as they could and Ilia and I let out a few bursts of fire while Sofia prepared to fire at any that got too close. My first bullet hit one in the arm and ripped through its flesh, seemingly penetrating further than my subsequent rounds. About ten of the watchers were already descending down the long staircase towards us as our bursts lit the darkened area up with repeated bright-orange flashes.

Ilia's weapon was seriously impressive, with so few bullets he managed to take down a surprising portion of them with little effort. My weapon had already started to overheat by the third burst and I needed to stop for a moment to let it cool down.

The door's gap was only big enough to let one person shoot at a time and I was the only one in a position to do so. They weren't going to make it through, I was silently rejoicing as I fired a few more ineffectual rounds into the endless horde. One of them hit a pouncing watcher in the foot, it went wildly off course but flew through the doorway just before the gap got too small to pass through. The watcher collided with me, knocking my gun out of my hands and sending me to the hard floor. I let out a scream as my spine took the full brunt of the pain and the watcher composed itself. It noticed what it had landed on and roared in my face.

This was it. I was going to die. I'd survived this long, but this was how it was going to be. _Why was I so stubborn?_ _I wouldn't have been here if I'd just listened to Ilia in the first place._ The whole scene seemed to play out in slow motion as it reared back its claws to finally end it. It was lit up by a dim yellow light from behind me, making the shadows cover much of its horrible face. An explosion erupted behind me as the room flashed a vibrant orange. The watcher's once-incensed expression was replaced by a cloud of crimson blood as its face was mutilated and its body was thrown off me with force. My ears were ringing from the intensity and proximity of the sound and I was left on the floor wondering what had happened.

Ilia rushed over and fell down onto his knees next to me, shouting something incomprehensible at me as Sofia stood next to him with one of her shotgun's barrels smoking. I was in a daze and couldn't understand anything. Sofia made sure that the immediate area was clear as Ilia tried hopelessly to get me to understand simple Russian. Ilia yanked my gas mask off before doing the same to his own as he kept trying to talk to me. After a few minutes of this, my hearing slowly came back to me. "Alex, please be ok," Ilia said in a defeated tone. "Please, Alex."

I cleared my throat and muttered, "What the fuck happened?"

Ilia's eyes widened and he exhaled in relief. "Jesus, man. You scared me there. I thought you were just gone."

"My back's pretty bad, but I'm ok. Seriously, though. What happened?"

"Sofia shot the fuck out of it with your shotgun. Blew its face right off."

I looked over at her as she snapped the barrel back into place after reloading it. "Thanks," I said timidly as I pulled myself up and sat against one of the station's pillars. The abandoned station – whose decaying sign on one of the walls read 'Mayak', meaning that we had ended up in Mayakovskaya station – was in severe disrepair but looked as though it was once a beautiful place. It was very open, with a moderately tall soot-covered ceiling and wide arches, the pillars of which were only wide enough for one person to sit against each face. The marble floors were dulled and reflected none of Ilia's torchlight but were once brightly coloured tiles with regular square shapes running down the central platform. It looked as though there was once brass lining the inside of the arches, but much of it had been looted already and what was left was dull and often scratched. The station had clearly never been fully inhabited, but some people had lived there in the last few years. A collapsed wooden stand was rotting away towards the nearby with several decaying rat carcasses surrounding it, presumably a food stand, and a campfire lacking in any fuel had been set up in the centre.

Ilia sat on the inside of the closest arch, next to me, and said, "I can't believe we made that."

"Are you alright?" I asked him. "How's your side and all of that."

"You know, constant pain. I'm ok, though. I think I just need a bit of a rest." I nodded in agreement as Sofia handed him his light and sat on the other side of the arch. "How's everyone doing for ammo?"

I looked into my weapon's open magazine with despair. "Four rounds," I replied solemnly.

"Four shells altogether," Sofia said while making sure that she had reloaded her shotgun.

"I've got seven rounds," Ilia said before adding, "plus one in the chamber."

"Ah shit," I said when he mentioned the chamber. The other two looked at me with confusion and worry. "I forgot about the chamber." I started to count my military grade bullets as I said, "I guess I've got five rounds left, then."

"Why's that bad?" Sofia asked.

I finished counting, which resulted in a total of 29 bullets. "I think I fired one of my military bullets at the watchers."

Ilia chuckled and light-heartedly said, "You moron." I conceded and laughed; it was a stupid oversight. "What are the chances that we'll find some ammo around here?"

"Slim to none, I reckon," I replied. "This place doesn't seem too dangerous; it's probably been picked clean."

Ilia thought for a moment. "Alex, you take my gun and put your ammo in it," he said as he put his AK on the floor next to me. "I'll use my revolver anyway since we'll need some light."

I was excited; a chance to use his AK! While trying to hide my excitement, I started removing the rounds from my gun and putting them in the AK's magazine, making sure to eject the chambered round from my weapon this time. "Good idea." The weapon felt great in my hands, it was so much more comfortable to hold than the Bastard was.

"Plus, I've seen how you've been eyeing it up," Ilia added with a small laugh.

"Thirteen rounds," I said once I'd transferred the ammunition. "Just enough to startle a baby nosalis." After putting the Bastard in my bag, which only just fit and turned my bag into a puzzle to get everything back in, I leant back up against the arch and took a few deep breaths. After a short time, I said, "Go on then, Ilia. Since we don't have a time limit anymore, tell me about your adventures."

He slowly recounted in some detail what happened to him after I was taken prisoner by the Nazis. I listened in awe as he told me about his encounters with some of the Nazis, his brief time on the surface, his capture and subsequent escape from bandits, his fight with Ruslan Utkin resulting in his rescue of Sofia, and their massive luck that let them follow me to Teatral'naya. There was an odd gap where he didn't explain much about how he actually got captured by the bandits, but I was amazed nonetheless. I understood even less how he was still alive, but his phobia of the demon made a lot more sense when he explained the full story of his massive wound.

He asked me about my exploits, which sounded much less impressive than his when I explained them. I was almost disappointed because my stories were so underwhelming in comparison. I did make sure to fully explain how great Sofia's family was, though.

Once we rounded off my stories, we got onto talking about how awful the opera was.

"And the title!" Ilia mocked. " _One Man and His Demons_! It wasn't exactly subtle."

"Maybe we're just not a high enough class to understand its intricacies," I joked.

"Well if that's the case, then I didn't stand a chance," Sofia said. "You guys might as well be the one percent compared to my family in Lubyanka." Though she was joking, she was right. Our lives under Hansa were much better than most in the Metro. We had decent food and a fair amount of space, even the bright lighting improved our quality of life. Her family lived in such terrible conditions; I'd been there and I could barely fathom it. If we could get her back to Novoslobodskaya, Sofia would certainly have a better life than the one that her previous station had promised her.

"What's there to understand?" Ilia replied before beginning to mockingly imitate the director's voice. "Ooh look, I'm so clever because demons are real things as well as figurative things. They represent his internal and external struggles. What a fucking marvel I am."

Sofia and I burst out laughing. Through the tail-end of the laugh, I asked Ilia, "Didn't you desperately want to go to the Bolshoy?"

"I did. It was underwhelming, to say the least. To be honest, I don't think it was worth the trip," he replied with a small laugh.

"Really?" I sarcastically responded. "And I got the impression that you've had a great time." He chuckled before he went into a deep thought as he held his revolver and ran his thumb over a marking on its wooden handle. It surprised me that he would mark his weapon, he cherished that pistol. Despite its age and relative disrepair, it was exactly in the same condition as when he'd first been given it so it was a big deal for him to purposefully carve something into it. I couldn't make out what it was though. I was too intrigued, I had to ask. "What's with the mark on your gun, Ilia?"

He didn't answer for a moment as he froze and just looked at his gun. I thought that he just hadn't heard me, but he showed me the handle with the initials 'ML' carved into it. He spoke in a much more solemn and serious tone than before. "Mary Lagunova." He let out a big sigh before continuing. "I'll spare you the details, but she went through horrible things at the hands of the bandits that captured me. She ended up killing them all with this revolver and saving my life while losing her own in the process. The carving is just a way to remember her."

I hesitated as I struggled to think of something to say. "Shit, man. Do you know how she ended up there?"

"No idea." He continued to speak slowly and with great thought put into each word. "I think it must have been kind of shady though. She was about to give me a fake name, Gal-something, before she told me her real one."

"Gal-something?" I quickly replied. "Galina?" It was a longshot, but it seemed too coincidental.

"I don't know, she only got as far as saying 'Gal'."

"What did she look like?" He described her to me in detail, the image clearly burned into his mind. She sounded exactly like the Galina that I had met. "Christ, I think I met Mary. She was my ticket through to Kuznetsky Most from Lubyanka."

"She can't be, that would be crazy."

"She _was_ into pretty shady stuff as well; she was trying to get through the border with the most bullshit papers I've ever seen. It would be crazier if there were two women within a station of each other that looked exactly the same and went by an alias that at least started with the same three letters." Ilia thought for a moment before conceding and sighing deeply. After it dawned on me that Galina was likely dead, I said, "Fuck. That sucks. I guess none of us would be here if it wasn't for her."

"We'll have a drink to her when we get back."

We sat in silence for some time, Ilia and I completely relying on Sofia to warn us of any dangers as we were engrossed in our own thoughts. Ilia had given her his flashlight and she'd moved to the far end to make sure that both tunnels were immediately clear of any threats.

I shuffled slightly closer to Ilia, tapped him on the shoulder, and whispered, "Nice catch, by the way."

Excitedly, he replied, "I know, right? She's amazing. She was in that club and I genuinely didn't know whether to just sit and watch or go through with my plan to save her."

"I'm glad you did what you did. I reckon she'll do you good."

"You think she even likes me like that?" He replied his wavering voice betraying is slight nervousness. He never was the most confident when it came to actually sealing the deal.

"Dude, definitely. Ignoring the fact that you rescued her from fucking slavery, she clearly cares about you so much." Ilia gently nodded along with my comments, bolstering his confidence slightly. I could see her flashlight coming back towards us, so I quickly said, "You'd better make a move at some point anyway, she's hot."

Ilia quietly chuckled as I shuffled back to my original place and acted as if we weren't talking about Sofia. She returned to us and sat against the pillar opposite to Ilia after confirming that we were indeed alone.

After just over ten minutes of silence had passed, Ilia asked, "Why do you think that this station is empty? It doesn't seem particularly dangerous, the door to the surface works fine, and there's loads of space. More than in most stations. Seems perfect to me."

I thought for a moment. He had a good point, space was at a premium in the Metro, why was an entire station left empty? Trying to think of a safe reason, I pointed down one of the tunnels and said, "The Reich is that way, right? Maybe the Reich and Hansa like having a buffer zone between each other."

Ilia shook his head. "I like the optimism, but I don't think that's it." He suddenly sat up and stared towards Belorusskaya's tunnel. "Did you see that?" He whispered quickly and slowly rose to his feet, using the arch to steady himself, as he continued to stare into the darkness.

I squinted heavily and looked in the same direction, but saw nothing. "What did you see?"

He hurriedly retrieved his flashlight and faced it towards the tunnel. It barely reached halfway across the station and revealed very little. "I swear I saw something," he said in disbelief.

"What did it look like? A nosalis?" Sofia asked.

"No, no," he said cautiously, not taking his eyes off the tunnel. "It was taller. It looked human."

I stood up and readied the AK. We were all completely silent as we nervously watched the tunnel. "I don't see anything," I eventually said.

Ilia quickly shushed me while holding his index finger out to me before going silent again. He suddenly panicked and said, "Did you hear that?" Sofia and I shared a look of confusion before he quickly turned his light around to the Reich tunnel. "I swear I just heard a voice." His voice wavered through his panic.

"I'm not hearing any of this, Ilia," I replied, worried about my friend.

He paused for a moment. "Let's just get the fuck out of here."

We all quickly agreed, gathered our belongings, and rushed towards the leftmost tunnel to Belorusskaya. We were on the home straight, once we reached Belorusskaya, it would be easy to get to Novoslobodskaya as Hansa maintained the ring line well and regularly and often sent railcars between each station.

Nothing in the Metro was quite that simple, though.

. . .

Ilia's light passed back and forth along the floor of the wide tunnel. It was surprisingly empty. While being just as decrepit as any other disused tunnel, there were no bodies, no discarded equipment, and absolutely no light, not even from the usual dim red emergency lights that were often placed above important parts of the tunnels. We started to see spider webs form on the walls and some of the floors.

We came across an open door on the right-hand side with a person's boot coming out from it. Seeing an opportunity to scavenge some equipment or ammunition, we cautiously and silently moved over to it. The room was pitch black, as was everything else in the area, so Ilia and Sofia moved up to one side of the door while I pushed myself up against the wall on the other side, initially forgetting about the webs and briefly getting stuck.

After pulling myself free, I whispered, "Light off?" Remembering Ilia's previous insistence on that.

"I don't think even Nosalises could see in this light," he replied. "We should be fine." He spent a little time plucking up courage before turning into the door and shining his light into the room while aiming his revolver in the same direction. We heard a faint scuttling sound further in as soon as the light hit the opposite wall, but we didn't see any culprit.

As it turned out, the boot and the foot inside it were all that remained of its owner. A trail of blood led away from it and down the dreary, spider web covered corridor. The sheer amount of webbing was incredible, the walls couldn't be seen at all through the thick white substance. The corridor itself still retained its shape, however, as the webs were mostly on the walls with only a few strands going across the width of it.

On the floor next to the leg were a few spent cartridges from the broken AK caught in the webbing on the wall. I was about to fight the spider web to liberate the magazine from it, but Ilia surprised me by retrieving a knife from a sheath on his leg. He handed it to me and allowed me to cut the webs away and pull the magazine free. It was a tough process, partially due to the thickness of the webs but mostly down to the only occasional lighting I was getting as Ilia had to split his attention between me and the corridor. For whatever reason, it didn't cross my mind to just give Sofia my flashlight. The magazine contained five rounds, which was a little disappointing, but I loaded them into my own magazine nonetheless. I was too nervous and couldn't be bothered to the cut the AK itself away, so I handed the knife back to Ilia and prepared to move back.

"Do think that we should see if we can find the rest of the body?" I quietly asked. "They might have had more ammo on them."

Ilia thought about it for a moment, he'd clearly had quite enough of exploring. "Do we really want to find out what ripped this poor guy's leg off and dragged them away?"

"No, but I'd rather find some ammo before we encounter anything at all. Let's just look around the corner."

Reluctantly, they both agreed. Eighteen rounds in the AK, the most capable weapon in our arsenal, wasn't enough, even for the relatively short distance we were due to go.

We nervously clutched our weapons as Ilia led the way with his flashlight. The small amount of webbing on the floor stuck to our boots, meaning that we had to peel them off the floor with each step. We passed what we thought was just more of the wall, but turned out to be an open doorway that had been completely blocked up by the thick spider webs. Feeling as though we were walking into a trap, I continued to follow the other two as they reached the corner. Ilia quickly rounded the corner and inspected the corridor as Sofia moved around him to look as well.

"What the…" Ilia said as I moved up behind them. In the centre of the long and similarly web-covered corridor were two open doorways going to the left and right, with the end turning to the right and the trail of blood, diminishing slightly by this point, leading through the left door. The flashlight's range could only just light up what was at the end of the corridor in the corner. There was some kind of a fleshy mound with several ovular, almost egg-shaped objects around it. There were four small ones, a little larger than my fist, with a larger one, almost three times the size of the smaller ones, up against the corner itself. They moved slightly with grotesque rhythm as if they were blowing in a breeze that didn't exist, and squelched slightly with each minor change of direction. They looked too fleshy to be eggs, but I couldn't work out what they were.

"Ever seen anything like that?" I asked, not expecting much.

Without taking their eyes of the mystery, both Sofia and Ilia simply said, "No."

"Let's just not go near it," Ilia said decisively.

We all agreed and edged towards the left-hand door. As we reached it, each egg-shape on the mound started to rumble slightly. Ilia focused the flashlight on it and each egg split into four and opened up to ooze a sickening green slime. We quickly stepped back and aimed our weapons at the monstrosity as half a dozen or so small spiders crawled out of each large and small egg. We breathed a sigh of relief as they all quietly scuttled away into the darkness of their closest open door.

"Hopefully that's all we have to contend with," Ilia said as he approached the left door again.

Despite the relief, my heart was racing. I regretted ever suggesting that we should go into this place. I wasn't convinced that it would only be spiders here, they wouldn't be able to kill someone and drag them off like this.

Ilia briefly looked over to the right-hand door before stepping into the left doorway and shining his light around the room. He jumped slightly as he heard the same scuttling as before, but didn't say anything.

I approached and looked in as he said, "We've got more of those spider egg things."

The moderately sized room was equally covered in spider webs and in the far right-hand corner were five clusters of these eggs laid out in a similar fashion to the first set. We didn't pay much attention to them as they didn't seem particularly dangerous. There was a small hole, about a metre high and wide, in the closest right-hand corner that led back into the corridor. There wasn't any rubble around it, however, so it hadn't just collapsed; something had made the hole.

Ilia stepped into the room and found that the blood trail moved up the wall to his left and to the ceiling. He briefly lit the ceiling up before doing a double take on it. "I think we found our victim," he said in a worried tone.

The ceiling was a fair bit higher than that of the claustrophobic corridor before, but it didn't feel like it. The ragged scavenger was hanging from the ceiling by what was left of his legs that had been cocooned in the same thick webs. His head, only slightly above our own heads, faced the doorway and was covered in large cuts and bruises to the point where it was barely recognisable as a face. His bloodied hands were free and reaching for the floor, similarly to those of the several skeletons surrounding him in similar positions on the ceiling. The man had clearly been dead for some time, somehow the usual stench of a rotting corpse wasn't present, as if the webbing was preserving or desiccating it, and the blood across his body and thick tattered clothes was completely dry.

"Jesus," Sofia said in disbelief. "What could have done this?"

"We should get out of here," Ilia added.

I threw my AK onto my back using its strap and cautiously moved over to the corpse. "We've got this far," I whispered, "We should get him down and search him, then we can go."

Ilia sighed as he thought it over. "Fine. We'll keep you covered."

I grabbed the hands of the body, thanking my gloves that I didn't have to touch his dried blood, and pulled. It barely budged. His legs, or leg and a half, were firmly fixed on the ceiling. With each tug, I moved him about half a centimetre. _Is this worth it?_ I thought to myself and a continued on with the exhausting and morbid process.

"Hurry it up," Ilia commanded.

Speaking a word in between each quick pull, I replied, "He's. Really. Fucking. Stuck." On the last word, the webs finally let up and his legs broke free. The body hurtled to the ground and I had to jump out of the way to stop it from landing on me. The man hit the ground with a definitive thud that echoed slightly around the room. The corpse's stench suddenly came back and hit us full-force. It was disgusting and I was tempted to put my gas mask on just to save myself from it. I wasted no time in going through his jacket's many pockets, however. Amongst Ilia's multiple requests for me to hurry, I found two full magazines for the AK, sixty rounds altogether and well-worth the trip. Seeing that there were a few things in his trouser pockets, I tried to search them but they were completely welded shut by the webs and I wanted to get out of there in a hurry.

The heavy scuttling came back, closer this time. I quickly stood up and looked around the dark room. Ilia shined his light into the opposite room as I held my heavy AK with one hand and fumbled to find my own light. The scuttling persisted, seemingly underneath us, above us, all around us. Finally retrieving my flashlight, I turned it on and scanned the room. None of us saw anything. I focused in on the egg clusters and watched as their occupants pushed up against the edges. The smaller eggs and three of the five larger eggs opened up to reveal a small horde of spiders as before. From the other two, however, brown-coloured large pointed spines rose out of the centre of the opening at the tops and split them apart, revealing two large and dangerous-looking creatures.

"Guys, guys!" I shouted much too loudly to get my friends' attention as the six-legged creatures scuttled off through the hole in the far wall. Their clustered yellow eyes averted their gaze and their scorpion-esque spine tails lowered as they tried to run away. Their yellow-brown skin seemed to smoke as the spider-like creatures hissed through their huge fangs. "What the fuck are those things?!" I shouted as Ilia turned to look and both him and Sofia backed into the room.

"I don't know!" Ilia responded in a panic, barely audible over the unending scuttling. He looked for the door to the room but it was covered in a thick layer of webs, so we wouldn't be able to close it quickly. The scuttling continued endlessly around us as we edged towards the back wall.

Through another hole in the wall that the egg clusters previously blocked, a similar creature rushed through. This one, however, lacked the tail and instead was covered in some kind of a thick armour of the same colour. I quickly turned my sights to it and let off a wildly inaccurate burst from my rifle towards it. Only one of the rounds made contact, and that ricocheted off the armour and hit the wall behind. It maintained its charge until I focused the centre of the flashlight's beam at it. The armour sent up plumes of smoke, similar to the egg-spawn before, and seemed to blacken slightly. The creature, now halfway between myself and the wall, turned and started to run, but started slow and let out a high-pitched hiss of pain. The armour burned away and completely blackened as the spider creature tried to climb over the egg clusters to get back to safety. It didn't quite make it. Losing all of its strength, it let go and tumbled off the mound, landing on its back and exposing its fleshy underbelly as its legs clawed at the air in its peril. With my arm starting to strain from the weight of my AK, I struggled to lift it but fired a single shot at the body. The bullet spattered dark green blood across its underside and the creature instantly ceased its movements.

The ever-present scuttling continued, however, and I didn't have time to reflect on my small victory. We'd backed ourselves up against the wall and were frantically watching the three entrances into our room. One of the original armourless creatures came into the doorway but immediately fled when Ilia illuminated it and scared it off with two revolver shots.

"Save your ammo!" Sofia shouted. "It looks like the light kills them!"

Feeling stupid that I hadn't thought of this earlier, I frantically switched my light's beam between the two holes, endlessly scaring off the spider creatures that entered them as Ilia did the same with the doorway. We saw a third type, one with armour, albeit thinner looking than that of the other, as well as a sharp tail. Both of our flashlight's beams were shaky as we desperately fended off these creatures and didn't dare move from our position.

"What do we do?" Ilia asked as the terror was taking hold. "We can't stay here forever!"

I quickly glanced around the room with my light, making sure to regularly place the beam back in the entrances to ward off the spiders. Remembering the webbed off doorway to our right-hand side, I shouted to Sofia, "Hold my light!" Slightly confused, she obliged and let one hand off her shotgun to accept the light and continue my warding. Swinging my rifle to my back, I rushed over to Ilia and informed him of my intentions before retrieving his knife from his lower-leg's sheath.

Sofia's shotgun fired a powerful shell out one of its barrels, briefly illuminating the room and blasting one of the unarmoured hatchling spiders out of the more obvious hole in the wall, having apparently gotten dangerously close to her.

Spurred on by the panic, I scrambled over to the covered doorway and plunged the knife into the thick webbing halfway down the opening. The resistance put up by the inches thick substance was immense as the sharp blade had trouble making its way through. I started to carve to the side as fast as I could. The serration of the blade helped its way through but it was tough going as each motion only moved the blade forward a centimetre or so. I frantically carved away at it as the smoke of the burning spiders started to waft over to us. The overpowering odour made me feel lightheaded as beads of sweat ran down my face. I reached the edge of the doorway and started to carve down towards the floor, completely ignoring the continuous scuttling in all directions around me.

I was at the bottom, and ready to call to the others, but a slower tapping made itself known to me once I'd stopped focusing on the carving. Nearly frozen by fear, I slowly turned my head to the right to what I thought was a solid wall. In the darkness, I saw a circular tunnel carved out of the concrete, and something moving inside it. Just as I screamed, "Shit!", the armoured tailless spider pounced at me. The knife loudly clattered to the ground as I pushed my hands towards the monster in a vague attempt to protect myself. Its two sets of vicious fangs, four large teeth on the outside and a full set as a mouth, were millimetres from my face as its sharp legs ferociously scratched along the floor and tried to inch itself closer to me, occasionally clawing at my coat that was just about staying strong. My legs kicked at nothing as I tried to keep its incredible mass away from me, but we were locked in a stalemate. Its bursts of energy moved its clawing fangs closer to me and even nicked my cheek, but I desperately pushed it away as I cried for help.

We were suddenly illuminated and a boot that came out of nowhere made contact with its abdomen, launching it off me with incredible force. The spider slammed into the web-covered door next to us and wriggled helplessly on its back as it started to burn from the flashlight. In my shock, I looked over to see Ilia fire two shots from his revolver that both hit it in its exposed body, killing it instantly.

"Let's go!" He shouted, giving me his revolver-wielding arm to grab onto to pull myself up with as both of his hands were full. I scrambled to my feet as Ilia tapped Sofia on the shoulder to get her attention. I was about to rush through my newly-created door, but Ilia stopped me and went through first as he had the light. I readied my AK and quickly followed him with Sofia close behind aiming her flashlight behind us. Ilia turned to the left and aimed his light down the corridor to stop any spiders from going that way as he pushed me out into the larger tunnel. Once Sofia was out, he backed off and left. Five spiders appeared in the corridor but were stopped by Ilia's light as Sofia scanned the tunnel with hers. I moved over to the hallway's door but found it completely covered in webs and realised that I'd left the knife back in the spiders' lair. Seeing a couple of spiders about to come through the hole that I had created in the web-covered door inside, I fired the rest of my AK's magazine into it before pulling Ilia away.

We just ran away. Sofia's light kept watch ahead of us while Ilia's fended off the innumerable spiders that were chasing us. We sprinted towards Belorusskaya in an effort to put as much distance between us and the spiders as possible. We were fairly sure that we could run faster than them, but it was tough going over the ever-uneven surface of the tunnel.

After five minutes of solid running, we realised that we could no longer hear the distant scuttling and the spider webs on the walls had reduced to their normal level, only containing the smaller and more manageable spiders. We slowed to a stop and rested against a wall as we tried to catch our breath. Ilia and Sofia's lights jumped around the large tunnel as we took laboured breaths to recuperate. Thankfully, we saw no creatures in the darkness whatsoever.

"No more side passages," Ilia stated in a breath. He clutched his side and groaned while continuing, "I've had enough of those." He slid down the wall to sit against it and screwed his face as his pain clearly grew.

I rushed over, lowered myself to one knee in front of him, and put one hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright, Ilia?"

"Yeah," he quickly said on an in-breath. "Just give me a minute." A drop of blood fell onto my knee. _Where did that come from?_ I asked myself as I looked up at the dark and dull ceiling. "Might want to do something about that bite," Ilia said while pointing to my face, likely not noticing my confusion. I took my hand from his shoulder and felt my cheek, pulling away revealing a small amount of my blood from it. Taking off my glove to get a better feel revealed a larger bite on my cheek than I had initially thought, the spider had done more damage than I realised at the time and the blood slowly dripped down my face and onto the floor. "Find the first aid kit in my bag, should be some cloths or something in there," Ilia said through another groan. He leant forward so that I could reach into his bag and pull out the small kit, in which I did indeed find a couple of small but fortunately clean cloths. Taking one, I returned the kit to its place and held the cloth over my cut.

Sofia joined us and asked, "Is everyone ok?"

Ilia nodded as I replied, "About as ok as we can be, I think."

"Thank god," she said, slumping down next to Ilia. "What the hell were those things?"

"Things that are going to make me terrified of spiders from now on," I quickly said as I sat on a flat section of rail opposite the pair. "And side rooms," I added.

Ilia coughed before grinning and saying, "At least that's something."

I chuckled quietly before saying, "Thanks for saving me again, and sorry about your knife."

He dismissed me with a hand gesture and replied, "Don't worry about it. We've been through too much for me to get upset about losing a knife that's not even really mine."

After remaining in place for the better part of ten minutes, we reloaded our weapons, rose to our feet, and continued down the long tunnel. Our pace was slow as we spent an indeterminable time in the darkness of the long tunnel. Sofia returned my flashlight to me and I stowed it away so that we could both comfortably hold our weapons. We took wide berths around any spider webs and doors we came across, open and closed, more through paranoia than anything. I felt safer in our group than I had in previous tunnels, but I was surprised by how nervous I still was. Exploring tunnels was certainly not new for Ilia and me, but after everything that had happened, I was terrified of every ambient sound that the tunnel made.

As we came to the end of a shallow corner in the tunnel, we noticed a small campfire in the distance in the centre of the tunnel. A stand had been set across it that suspended a kettle and four enamelled mugs were haphazardly placed around it on the floor. Four men were sat on uncomfortable chairs just behind their cups, all brandishing weapons of varying quality.

"Must be an outer guard post for the trade outpost," Ilia commented. "Put your weapons away and I'll get their attention." Sofia and I obliged, moving our weapons to our backs as Ilia holstered his revolver. He held his flashlight up towards them and flashed it multiple times as he shouted, "Travellers coming towards you! Not a threat!"

The four men jumped into action, one of them accidentally kicking their chair away as he fumbled to pick up his rifle. Two of them rushed to either side of the tunnel and turned on two powerful, bathing us in blinding white light. A gravelly voice shouted back, "Stop right there!" We immediately stopped moving towards them and tried to shield our eyes from the lights. "What's the password?!"

"Password?" Ilia whispered to us. Both of us shrugged, completely taken by surprise by the request. He turned back and shouted, "We don't know, but we're Hansa citizens!"

There was some quiet discussion before the same voice shouted, "Unload your weapons, reach for the ceiling, and slowly come towards us."

One of the lights turned off, allowing us to just about see the four figures standing across the tunnel on either side of the fire. We obeyed by taking all of the ammunition out of our weapons, putting our hands up, and carefully moving towards the encampment. The four men didn't take their eyes off us during our drawn-out approach.

Of the four guards, two of them looked to be in their late forties, one of them was in his mid-twenties, and the last one could have been no older than seventeen. They were fairly well equipped with two well-maintained AK-74Ms and two RPKs. Their thick clothing was relatively undamaged and they looked well-fed.

Once we reached them, the eldest, who had been previously speaking to us, sized us up briefly before commenting, "You three look like you've been through some shit."

Ilia nodded exasperatedly while replying, "Yeah, you could say that."

"You can put your arms down. I'll take you to the door."

Relieved that things seemed to be easier than expected, we all dropped our arms and began to follow the veteran guard. The others watched us with great interest as we passed through them. Mostly in silence, we made our way further into the tunnel. From the first guard post a kilometre away from the station, we passed another at the five-hundredth metre and another at the two-hundredth, all laid out in a similar fashion with four guards at each. The bustle of the busy station could be heard from the five-hundredth metre and the open door came into view. A small checkpoint, in the form of a metal table with two guards sat behind it, had been set up on the left side of the opening, and beyond led straight into the station. It was clean, well-lit, and full of people. The station didn't offer much room as the roof was low, the slightly tarnished red-brown marble walls were thick, and the arches were small and few in number. Every available space, however, was taken up by market stalls with people rushing to buy everything they could from them.

Our escort took us up to the checkpoint and, after he'd introduced us and we'd thanked him for getting us this far, left to return to the thousandth metre. The checkpoint guards were both in their late thirties and were dressed similarly to the others.

Sat on old chairs, clutching enamelled mugs of tea and disinterestedly staring up at us, the slightly older of the two leaned forward, placed his mug on the table, and said, "You're looking to get to Hansa, are you?"

"I thought that this was a Hansa station?" Sofia asked just before either Ilia or I could stop her.

"Not exactly," he replied, grinning at her lack of knowledge. "We're in a mutually beneficial relationship, but they're actually upstairs. Didn't Danilia say that you were citizens?"

Slightly embarrassed, Sofia took a step back. I pointed to Ilia and myself while saying, "We are. She's not, though."

"Well, this is a free station so you're all welcome, provided you keep your weapons unloaded." He looked to Sofia. "I wouldn't go flaunting your lack of citizenship at their border if you plan on getting in there, though." Sofia nodded shyly. "Otherwise, welcome to the Belorusskaya trade outpost. Best food in the Metro, grown in our very own Dinamo, Aeroport, and Sokol stations." Expecting a long introduction to the station, we waited expectantly for a moment as he leaned back and picked his tea back up. He bobbed his head in the direction of the station. "Go on, then."

We awkwardly nodded and hurried off into the station. Moving onto the tracks, up the wooden ramps and through an archway to the central station, we stared at the tens of traders down the station. The wooden stalls were full of various consumables, from common foods like mushrooms, rats, and dubious stews, drinks such as mushroom vodkas and teas, to more luxurious cuts of chicken and pork and even some vegetables. Despite being from a relatively wealthy station, I'd never seen cucumbers before, but there was a stack of them on a distant stall just on display as if it was nothing. Towards the far end, the black and white tiled floor was significantly less clean, but for good reason. Several pig and chicken pens had been set up in order for the farmers to trade their livestock in this hub. It was, unfortunately, the animal's excrement that had spilt out of their pens and onto the central walkway. For this reason, the livestock had been relegated to the end of the station so that the awful stench wasn't too horrible for everyone else. It obviously didn't help much and the foul smell was pungent in all areas of the station, only letting up a little past the door that we came through.

I'd always thought that this station only traded in meat and livestock, as the animals were reared in the northern stations of Dinamo, Aeroport, and Sokol. However, it appeared as though traders from across the Metro came and sold their wares, and even some of the aforementioned stations had branched out into hydroponics in order to grow these seemingly magical foods. A couple of small restaurants had even been set up on the less pungent side of the station.

"There's so much food!" Sofia commented in wonder. "How do they have so much?"

"I heard that the people around here managed to bring loads of pigs and chickens into these stations before the bombs dropped," Ilia answered as he took position on a nearby wall. "We sometimes get imports from this station in Novoslobodkaya. They sell their stuff all over the Metro."

"Do they sell to the Red Line?" She asked, likely hoping that the answer was no so that she would have some semblance of an answer as to why her family was almost constantly starving.

"I think that they even sell to the Reich," I began, subtly indicating towards a Nazi officer browsing a stall's wares, eliciting a small sigh from Sofia, "so I imagine they do."

Despite the wondrousness of our surroundings, it wasn't a utopia. It was widely known that the station exchanged food for the Reich's prisoners in order to use them on their plantations. It wasn't pretty, but it was what allowed them to maintain their high output of food, and no one could argue with that when starvation was always looming around the corner for every station in the Metro. The four stations were becoming quite the political force simply due to every other faction's dependency on them.

I was tempted to try out some of the food here, but I looked over to find Ilia having to lean up against a wall in order to reduce the effort it took for him to stand and realised that we had to get back to Hansa as soon as possible.

I offered myself up for his stability's sake before moving off but, being his stubborn self, he refused. We proceeded to the centre of the station while desperately trying to ignore the multitude of traders shouting us down in an attempt to sell their generally delicious looking food.

We reached the centre of the station where the large staircase on the right-hand side led up to the transfer tunnel and the end of our journey. Sofia and I helped Ilia up the stairs, as even his stubbornness couldn't carry himself this time.

The short transfer tunnel passed over the tracks of the previous station and the dirty windows looked down at the dwellings that now resided on them. A large amount of people were, with various amounts of effort, passing both ways between the Hansa border guards at the end of the tunnel, simply flashing their passports at them for the most part. The guards, wielding well-maintained AKS-74Us, were dressed entirely in grey with modern body armour and helmets, all standard for the Hansa border guards. Above them was a white banner containing a central brown circle, Hansa's well-known emblem.

"How are Sofia and I going to get through?" I asked Ilia, remembering that I'd lost my papers when I was taken by the Reich.

He retrieved his own passport and said, "Let's just try and get through on mine. Security doesn't look too tight."

"Yeah, right," I said sarcastically. "If there's one thing that Hansa's totally known for, it's lax security."

There were two lines set up, the right-hand line for entering Hansa and the left for leaving, the latter of which was short and moving faster, though not much faster than that of the right-hand line. We got in line behind the ten others in the right-hand line. Each of them flashed their passports, allowing the two guards on our side to disinterestedly glance at them before moving through.

When it was Ilia's turn, he did the same as Sofia and I huddled behind him in an attempt to get through unnoticed. My heart was racing as I prayed that the guards somehow wouldn't notice us. The guards' eyes flicked to his pass before nodding and letting him through. I rushed forwards, but an arm appeared in my way. The tall guard looked down at me and, clearly bored of his job, asked, "Passport?"

 _Shit._ I tried to think of something I could do. Make a run for it? No, that would never work, we'd be shovelling their latrines' waste for the rest of our lives. I stuttered and fumbled before Ilia turned back and got the guard's attention. "Please, sir," he began. "They're with me, they're Hansa citizens. We've been through so much to get here and we desperately need to get home to Novoslobodskaya."

"Without a passport, you're not allowed entry," the guard quickly responded.

"Please let us through," Sofia said. "We need medical attention," she pointed at Ilia, "him especially. Can't you just make one exception?"

Ilia lifted his shirt up to show his massive wound, to which the guard's eyes widened. " _He's_ free to go through, he has the right papers," the guard stated. "You two, however, are holding up the line." He indicated to the growing queue of about twenty people behind us. He pushed Sofia and I back out of the way of the line and the queue started to move forwards again.

"Fuck," I said to Sofia as we leaned up against the wall

She sighed and asked, "What do we do?"

I was halfway through saying, "I don't know," when we saw Ilia barging through the queue to get back to us.

Once he reached us, he said, "God damn it. I can't believe this."

"What are you doing?" Sofia asked in disbelief. "You can, and should, get home!"

"I've spent this long trying to find Alex, I'm not abandoning you two just yet."

"No. This is ridiculous."

"I can manage," Ilia quickly replied. "We're going to have to go over the surface directly to Novoslobodskaya, we know most of the border guards there. An extra gun is always needed on the surface."

"Come on, Ilia," I objected. "We'll be ok. You need to get back."

He sighed deeply and eventually replied, "I know you probably would be, but if I left you and something happened, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I wouldn't be able to bear the uncertainty of not knowing how you were getting along while I waited in safety." We looked into each other's eyes. I could see that he wasn't going to back down. I understood his sentiment. Not knowing what was happening to Ilia while we were separated was driving me mad. "We should eat here and then head out."

I moved back slightly to let Sofia move closer to him. She put her hand on his arm and gently rubbed it as she said, "Only if you're absolutely sure, Ilia."


	13. Chapter 13 - Restitution

Chapter 13: Restitution

Ilia – Day 2 – 19:12

So close. We were so close to home. I still couldn't believe that we were moving away from Hansa once again. Why did I think that we would get through while missing two passports? That was stupid of me. I must have just hoped that the world would be on our side and grant us entry despite Hansa's reputation with stringent borders.

With our spirits low, we trudged through the tunnel back to Mayakovskaya, having initially intended to simply go up to the surface from Belorusskaya and finding out that the exit had been completely blocked by the station's owners for safety purposes. We were nervous about the potential resurgence of the spiders, but we gave any doorways a wide berth and managed to avoid them.

Soon, we were approaching the empty station once more. Except this time it wasn't empty. I stopped the others and turned my flashlight off as we reached the end of the tunnel. In the centre of the platform, the campfire had been lit. The flame's warm orange light flickered seductively across the station. A man was sat cross-legged next to it facing us and idly smoking a fresh cigarette. He had no possessions to speak of and his dark vest and trousers were ragged and dirty. His greying hair had once been shaved but was starting to come through on top of his filthy middle-aged head.

I watched him for a moment, trying to discern whether he was a threat or not, until Sofia whispered, "What do you see?"

Confused at this man's presence, I replied, "He's just… sitting there." There was something strange about him. He seemed completely at peace and unafraid of the deserted station. He wistfully stared up at the ceiling and blew the occasional smoke ring.

"Who's-", Alex began, but I shushed him when the man shuffled in place. It wasn't threatening, but any movement put me on edge.

"You two stay here and keep an eye out," I said as I began to move towards him. "I'm going to see what's up."

While clambering up onto the platform, I heard Alex and Sofia quietly discussing the situation, but I ignored them and hid behind one of the station's pillars. Keeping my revolver ready, I peered around the corner at the man. He hadn't moved, and seemed utterly content with his life. I pulled out my flashlight and looked back at Sofia and Alex to silently communicate my plan to get his attention. They looked incredibly confused, but I continued regardless, knowing that they were nearby if I needed help.

I looked back at the man and quickly flashed my light at him a few times while saying, "Friendly?"

He locked onto my voice and said nothing, but instead simply beckoned me over. I tentatively moved out of cover, clutching my revolver with unease. He continued to beckon impatiently as I slowly approached him. I didn't dare take my eyes off him in case it turned out that he was hiding a weapon of some kind.

Taking another drag of his cigarette, he asked, "What is your name, young man?" His deep voice felt oddly optimistic as he spoke.

Stuttering and floundering, I replied, "I-Ilia," as I reached his fire.

"I'm Matvey. Sit down. Let's have a conversation, no one seems to come by this station anymore." I fought my distrustful instincts and took my place opposite him. "You have no need for that weapon," he said as he lifted his arms. "You see? I have nothing here to threaten you with." I nodded along but didn't let go of my revolver. After a short time of silence, he asked, "What brings you here, Ilia?"

I was about to tell him, but instead responded with, "Is that any of your business?"

"It is no one's business but your own. I am merely curious. You've clearly suffered as a result of your travels." He indicated to my tattered clothes and visible wounds. "I was just interested to see how you got here. You've never known a life other than this one of pain and mistrust, I suppose. Were you even alive before the bombs dropped?"

I nodded gently. "I was. Not for long, though. I don't remember what the world was like before we lived down here."

"Oh, it was wonderful." He looked away as he started to reminisce. "Of course, we didn't realise it at the time. Back when we resented these stations for being overcrowded with busy people on their commutes. It's strange, we sometimes felt as barred from the surface as we do now. Have you been to the surface?" I nodded, listening intently. I enjoyed hearing stories about Moscow before the war. Though, it was always bitter-sweet since I knew that we wouldn't return to that life in my time. "You've seen the number of cars up there, yes? At certain times of the day, those cars would have been just as stationary as they are now, simply because there were so many of them all trying to go to the same places. So, we were forced to use the Metro to get around at any speed." He paused for a moment. "Sorry, I'm rambling." He looked me up and down before saying, "I hope you don't mind me saying this, Ilia, but you strike me as a troubled man."

I was slightly taken aback by the sudden directness of his statement. "What do you mean?" I tentatively asked, unsure of whether I actually wanted to hear the answer or not.

"There's a lot of anger inside you, isn't there? Is it something you've done? No… It's about someone else. You value your friends dearly, that much is clear from the way that you came to me alone and left them in relative safety. You've gone through a lot for them, haven't you? But one doesn't develop bonds like that through a simple life. No, you carry a great weight with you. Outwardly, you believe that it wasn't your fault, but it occasionally creeps into your consciousness that it was. Now, what is 'it', I wonder."

"Ok, stop talking now," I ordered, visibly shaking. How did he know this much about me? Surely as much as he'd said couldn't be inferred from just my appearance.

"Maybe it was your childhood?" He continued, staring into my eyes as if trying to see into my soul. "Were you bullied? Not quite… Or, at least, that wasn't 'it'. What station are you from?"

I nervously swallowed and said, "N- Novoslobodskaya." I felt compelled to tell him, but I wasn't sure why.

"Ah, Hansa! You would have been too young to fight in the war, correct? But your father, there's the story. I can see your life before me now. It's not your father that bothers you, it's your mother. She's the sticking point. I can only surmise that you're so close to at least one of your friends because their family became yours. Yes, that's 'it'."

"You don't want to get into this," I said, starting to grit my teeth.

"I see that this has been something of a sore point for you, hasn't it? I don't know why you feel so responsible for your mother's demise, but you have to realise that it's all a matter of perspective."

I waited for a moment, expecting him to elaborate. "Perspective?" I questioned when he said nothing more. "She's dead. She's not coming back. No amount of fucking empathy is going to change that."

"That is true, but the reasons behind this are always up for debate."

"None of that matters!" I interrupted, getting frustrated with the crazy man. "Here's the facts: my father's dead, my mother's dead, Moscow's dead. A change of perspective can't change the things that I've been through to get to this point. The Nazis, Communists, Monsters and everything else; they're real." I lifted up my shirt to show him my wounds. "This isn't going to change."

Keeping calmer than myself, Matvey responded, "You know that that's not what I'm saying." He seemed to talk down to me like he was a disappointed teacher. "I'm saying that shifting your viewpoint can help you understand why things happen the way they do. Think about all of the people you've met in your travels. Your Nazis, Communists and what have you; they all see things differently to you. As an example; from your point of view, the blame for your mother's death rests nearly entirely on you."

"I knew that something was wrong," I interrupted again. "I should have done something."

Ignoring my interruption, Matvey continued. "Let's see it from Alexandr's perspective instead, or indeed, any of your friends at your home station. What they see is a child put into dire circumstances through no fault of his own." I was about to say something, but he quickly shushed me. "And how about Kira's?"

Confused and worried, I asked, "How do you know my mother's name?"

He ignored me again and spoke through my question. "She was locked in an endless loop. Depression quickly took hold of her when the love of her life never came back, the vodka seemed like the only thing that would keep her sane. When she saw the effect that her drinking was having on you, she fell deeper and deeper until she couldn't take the guilt anymore. The fact that she struggled to provide for you sent her back round in the cycle."

"So you agree with me?" I asked, finally getting a word in. "She was on a knife's edge and I could have done something."

"You were, what? Five, six years old? It was out of your control, it was out of anyone's control but your mother's."

I sat in silence for a moment, contemplating everything that he had just said. "Who are you?" I asked uneasily, confused about how he knew so much about me and my family.

"I don't believe that that's important right now. Just think about what I've said." He pointed behind me. "Your friends appear to be waiting for you."

I quickly turned my head around and saw Sofia and Alex approaching cautiously. "Who are you talking to?" Asked Sofia.

Pointing back at Matvey, I replied, "What do you mean?" Both of them looked between me and Matvey with increasing confusion. I turned back to him, but there was only darkness in his place. Both he and the fire had gone, as if they'd disappeared, leaving only the desolate husk of the long burnt-out campfire. "What the fuck?" I muttered as I leaned forward and hopelessly scrabbled at the floor where he once was to find some semblance of his existence.

"Ilia, you're scaring me," Alex said sternly. "What's going on?"

"He was here, I was talking to him," I rambled.

"Who was here?"

"Matvey! He was talking about perspectives and shit." I turned back to the other two and stood up, panicked. "You didn't see him?" How could they not see him? His fire was as clear as day and he was talking back to me. Were they going crazy?

They shared a worried look before Sofia said, "This place isn't right, let's leave."

We headed for the hermetic door to the surface for, hopefully, the final time. I dwelled on what Matvey had said, regardless of whether he was real or not. Barely paying attention to the outside world, I followed Alex and Sofia's movements as I tried to make sense of him. He knew my mother's name. Did they know each other? Why was he so reluctant to tell me who he was? None of it made sense. I was all too aware of the supernatural in the Metro, but I'd never heard of a ghost conversing with the living. And, if he was a ghost, wouldn't Sofia and Alex have seen him as well? No, this was something very different. Maybe I was in even worse shape than I originally thought and had started hallucinating. It felt too real, though. I could have sworn that I felt the heat of the fire but, looking back on it, I wasn't so sure. Something was very wrong with either the station or my mind.

Alex shoved the AK into my arms, breaking me from my trance, while saying, "We've got a mag each." He threw his bag off and pulled out his Bastard gun once more so that he could transfer the thirty rounds from his AK magazine into the Bastard's. "Just hold it together for us, ok? We'll talk about all of this when we get back."

Still barely paying attention to my surroundings, I replied, "Yeah, sorry. I'll be alright."

Once he was done, he handed me another AK magazine while saying, "This is all of my money. Might as well have it in an emergency since we don't have much ammo overall." I accepted the generous offer, loaded a single bullet of mine to top off the magazine, and put it away, ready for an emergency.

Alex loaded his weapon and pulled back the slide as he determinedly said, "Ready," to Sofia. We all donned our gas masks before she pulled down the lever to set the door's mechanism in motion.

Terrified of the watcher horde that we had so narrowly avoided before, we watched the opening intently as it revealed the few mutants that we had killed on the frozen stairs. We were tempted to leave the door open and simply run for our lives across the surface, but we decided that it was better for the Metro as a whole if we waited for it to fully open and close it once we were outside. We'd heard stories about the brave defenders of Paveletskaya, where the hermetic door to the surface had broken, and we weren't about to make another means of ingress for the surface creatures. Fortunately, no such terrors befell us and we managed to leave the station with relatively little drama.

From Alex's Metro map, we knew the vague direction that we had to travel to get to Novoslobodskaya, so we moved down the main road that Mayakovskaya's entrance was situated on. Based on the station's relative location on the map, we made an assumption that it would be on the next main road. It wasn't destined to be a long walk, but it was paired with the usual nerves and terrors of the surface.

We moved quickly as our filters were well-used by this point and we didn't want to get caught out. It took us ten minutes of tense silence and minimal breathing to reach the first large main road. Carefully, we looked down the huge four-lane road. If anywhere was home to a relatively major station, it had to be this. We didn't like the small amount of cover offered by the spread out decrepit buildings and surprisingly small number of rusting cars, but we took a few steps down the pavement regardless.

One of the taller buildings on the left-hand side had completely collapsed and fallen into the road, unfortunate for us as we were relatively sure that we had to get through it to get to our destination.

About to move forward to see if there was a safe way through, we looked more carefully at the windows of the fallen building. There were countless watchers staring at our small group. We all seemed to notice them at the same time and tense up while raising our weapons. Suddenly feeling very exposed, we silently inched across the huge road to the other side and sped up to move away. We didn't have the ammunition nor the ability to get out of a fight with that pack in one piece.

We sped up our pace and power walked away from the road in any direction that wasn't towards them. A distant howl caused us to speed up into a full-fledged run. As it turned out, the howl wasn't directed at us, but we didn't know that and instead ran for our lives. We didn't take any more left turns for the paranoid fear of more of those creatures appearing to block our path.

The massive road split into three, one raised highway in the centre with a smaller road on the ground either side. The highway was a complete no-go as, unsurprisingly, it had collapsed in a huge number of places. Many of the supports had broken and the bridge structure was broken scattered across the ground.

Sticking to the ground-level road, I noticed Alex's breathing start to become more laboured. None of us had long left, we had to get down fast. I rushed the other two on and found the first right turn to a major road, my thinking being that we'd be much more likely to find a station entrance on a main road than otherwise.

My breathing joined Alex's and I started to find it hard to focus on finding an entrance. The three of us rushed as fast as we could down the road, carefully examining each and every ruined building for any respite. We didn't even care if we found another Nazi station at this point. Alex and I struggled to keep pace as Sofia went ahead to scout the road for us. That was until her filter's luck finally ran out. Coughing and spluttering, she feverishly pointed out a partially collapsed but once impressive redbrick building. Four huge arches made up its face but much of the three storeys above had collapsed in on itself. The red Metro 'M' logos on its front renewed my hope and we rushed to it as fast as we could.

We didn't pay much attention to the fact that the building was likely minutes away from a full collapse and just helped each other to power through the broken glass doors, past the rusting ticket gates, and down the dangerously destroyed escalator. Everything was a blur and I had little recollection of what had actually happened by the time we reached the huge steel sliding doors blocking our ingress. The three of us combined our current pathetic strengths to turn the locking wheel and slide open one of the doors before rushing in and desperately locking it behind us.

We'd made it. Wherever this pitch-black airlock was, we weren't going to die from suffocation. We each ripped our gas masks off and hunched over to cough as loudly and disgustingly as possible just to clear our throats and take in the relatively fresh air.

After nearly ten minutes of this, Alex exhaustedly asked, "Where the fuck are we?"

I reluctantly turned my flashlight on and scanned the area. It seemed deserted, no passport checking desks, no supplies, not even a chair. Just two sets of sliding doors, a few cobwebs, and an open ventilation shaft.

I moved over to the next door and wearily said, "I guess we should have a look."

We moved through the second door and found a very wide set of stairs leading down with dulled brass handrails on each side. At the bottom was a corner that led to the left, to more stairs down and a strangely familiar sight on the right side. The wall was taken up by a huge stained-glass window. The design's colours had faded and several bits of glass had been smashed, but the greenery it showed was still something of a beautiful sight.

"Do you recognise that, Alex?" I asked, not quite being able to place where I'd seen the design before.

With a nervous certainty, he replied, "Yes. You don't?" I shook my head. "It's fucking Tsvetnoy Bulvar. We're back where we started."

I took a step back. "No way," I said in disbelief. Taking a deep breath, I whispered, "Let's be more careful than we ever have. The Nazis could still be here."

"What happens if they are?" Alex quickly whispered back, a distinct fear penetrating through his voice.

"We'll have to go through them somehow. We can't go back to the surface. At least we're only one tunnel away from home."

Alex sighed before cautiously stepping down the stairs. "Ok, let's check it out." We took an extraordinary amount of time to get to the bottom. Alex peered around the corner first and his eyes widened. "I don't think Nazis are going to be a problem here."

Sofia and I joined him and stared down at the massacre. Nazi bodies were strewn across the station, covering it and themselves in their own blood. They weren't killed by bullets however, this was something much worse. Clear signs of biting and feasting were evident across all of them. Some were missing entire limbs whereas others were proudly displaying their entrails to the world. We briefly wondered what could have possibly caused this when Alex turned on his light and illuminated several large holes formed in the station's platform; perfectly round holes that had been dug through concrete and marble. We both immediately knew what this meant.

"Where did those come from?" Sofia asked with distinct worry.

"Lurkers," I said succinctly. "We've run into them before. Think small nosalis. They hide in those tunnels and listen to movement up top, then they pounce on unexpectant prey."

"We'll have to be quiet," Alex added. "Really quiet."

"Just move slowly, avoid the holes, and stick together," I ordered. "We should be ok." I didn't quite believe my own words, but I tried to exude some form of bravado.

Alex and I led the way, holding our rifles with one hand and our flashlights with the other. My AK was heavy on one hand, but I could just about manage to keep it somewhat ready. The massacre was clearly fairly recent, much of the blood was still wet and it was a task to not slip on it when descending the stairs. The scurrying all around us made us twitchily scan each of the dozen holes spaced out around us, our thinking being that they couldn't surprise us if we watched literally every hole. The shadows formed by our lights hitting numerous ruined corpses were frustrating and blocked a lot of our views of the floor.

Sofia's shotgun fired, briefly lighting up the darkened area and scaring both me and Alex shitless. I let out a small scream and turned to see a lurker being blown away in a cloud of its own dark red blood. The brown and hairless mole-like mutant seemed to squeal in its final breath as it hit the station wall and remained still.

After waiting for more to turn up for a moment, Sofia shakily loaded a shell into her weapon and nervously whispered, "Only these two shells left."

We inched across the station, discovering more holes and desperately trying not to turn our backs to any of them. The concentration was exhausting. As I began to feel as though I couldn't keep it up for much longer, we came to the end of the station and moved towards the opening to the tracks so that we could get into the train tunnel to home.

Alex led the way, heading towards the two bodies lying across the relatively narrow gap in the station's wall. He lifted his foot to step over one of the bodies before checking his footing. He froze just before his foot hit the floor. The impatient scurrying beneath us became louder as the creatures seemed to come closer extremely quickly. Alex simply screamed, "Shit!" before a lurker leapt out seemingly from beneath the corpse and attached itself to his leg. Its arms wrapped around his leg as its teeth buried into the thigh muscle. It pulled him down towards the ground as we rushed over to him. I tried to catch him but missed when he completely lost balance in his agonised screams and his face collided with the solid floor, his flashlight and Bastard Gun breaking as they hit the ground at the same time. The vicious crack of his nose breaking sounded through the tunnel and he was suddenly being dragged back. I leapt over the corpse and found Alex halfway down the lurker's hole that was hidden behind the deceased Nazi.

Dropping my flashlight and letting my AK swing freely from its strap, I quickly grabbed Alex's arms and tried to pull him out. Sofia started to help, but upon hearing the screeches of more lurkers about, she picked up my light and watched the other holes for a source. As I pulled on Alex's arms, his torment and suffering only grew, resulting in even louder pained cries. My strength was failing me, he was over halfway into the hole and I couldn't seem to pull him back even slightly. I stopped thinking and put all of my focus into him.

He came an inch towards me. The monster was letting up. With renewed strength, I pulled even harder and felt him come slightly closer. Alex clearly couldn't form any semblance of conscious thought in his agony, but I was winning. I tugged again and again until, finally, the monster let go. Alex came flying towards me, still deafening me with his tortured crying. Nearly falling over from the sudden weight on me, I lay him on the floor and moved to check his leg wound.

The world around me started to come back into focus as I confusedly pawed into the darkness of the station floor. Sofia was standing guard having just shot a lurker in the head with her revolver, her shotgun on her back since it had apparently run out of shells. Three dead lurkers lay before her and everything seemed to quieten down slightly, save for Alex's slightly diminished whimpering. I couldn't check his wounds in the dark, so I asked Sofia to shine her light over us.

I didn't immediately realise what was wrong, I was just confused. Only when I tried to touch his leg in disbelief did I finally accept what had happened.

"Is it bad?" Alex asked with a significant amount of effort.

I had no idea what to say, I was at a loss for words. That lurker had eaten through his leg to the point where it had completely come off. Even further than that, it had clearly had a go at the rest of him as everything up to his stomach was bloody and ruined.

"We need to get you out of here," I said nervously.

Straining to lift his head up, Alex looked down at the rest of his body. Like me, he didn't immediately understand what had happened, but his eyes widened massively as soon as he realised. His head hit the floor again and he started to hyperventilate and swear on every out breath.

"This isn't real, right?" He urgently asked. "It just looks missing, it can't actually be missing. Tell me it's not missing!" His own pain silenced him as he groaned and tried to move a leg that no longer belonged to him.

I moved up to look him in the eyes and, out of not being able to find anything better to do, sternly said, "We're leaving, everything's going to be fine." He quickly nodded through his pain so I turned to Sofia and ordered, "Take my AK and cover me. There should be a safe side passage down the tunnel a little."

She nodded and accepted the weapon. I hauled Alex up, wrapping my arm around his body while he wrapped his own around my neck to support himself. We didn't realise how tough it would be at first, so Sofia had to eschew covering us and help Alex walk by doing the same on the other side.

It wasn't much longer before we reached the side passage that we'd previously used to escape the nosalis horde before we'd been separated. Entering the small maintenance room and lying him down on the dirty sleeping bag, we struggled to think of what to do. I knelt by him and looked him over, tearing up as I did so. His face was pale and he was still bleeding profusely from all of his wounds.

"I don't know what to do," I struggled to say. Sofia quickly retrieved the first aid kit from my bag, but I dejectedly said, "There's nothing in there that can deal with this."

She opened the box up and, after a short rifle through, concluded the same a left it on the ground. "We have to do _something_ though."

Alex coughed, clearly causing himself more pain, and replied in a strained tone, "You two have done enough for me. I think this is it." He'd definitely been thinking deeply about this beforehand.

"No it isn't," I sternly said. "We can get you back, it's not far. There are doctors and a hospital, you'll be fine."

"You know full well how long it took us to get here when we were healthy. Even if we managed it, I'm not going to make it." As he felt around his body to retrieve the small satchel given to him by the communists, he added, "Thanks for everything, but you two will have to go on without me."

Quietly and softly, Sofia asked, "What are you doing?"

He pulled out a small black capsule and said, "Cyanide. It fucking hurts, but it will be quicker."

Almost out of instinct, I firmly grabbed his hand and said, "No. I won't let you."

He fought me a little but didn't have the strength to take it very far. I felt his hand relax in mine as he said, "There's no good outcome here. I die here, or you take me home where I die of infection or blood loss in the hospital. This is easier, trust me."

Tears started to drop onto the floor beneath me and I was struggling to see through my filling eyes. A hand suddenly touched my arm, initially shocking me. It was Sofia, she was looking forlornly into my eyes and silently willing me to pull my hand away from Alex's.

Looking back to Alex, I stuttered and struggled to say, "I can't live without you. I need you in my life. You can't die."

Alex thought for a short moment, his mind still clouded with pain, before replying, "That was more true years ago than it is now. Before all of this, I was even getting jealous of how independent you were getting. Besides, Sofia's here now, right?" I didn't look away from Alex to see her response, but she presumably nodded as Alex looked back to me to say, "You'll be fine."

I sighed as I thought over what he said, slowly letting go of his hand, which he pulled away from mine.

"Thank you," he exhaustedly said. "Take my stuff and go. I'll be alright."

I tried but struggled to look him in the eyes as I snivelled and said, "I'm so sorry. I should've done more earlier."

He shushed me and hurriedly said, "Shut up Ilia, not everything's your fault. You'd blame yourself for World War Three if you could." He gave a weak smile before urging us to leave again. Sofia started to gather his equipment as I begrudgingly picked myself up and left the room.

On the way out, I said, "Thanks for being my friend through everything. I'm going to miss you."

Alex simply replied, "Likewise."

Sofia joined me outside the room and I moved through the small corridor, wrenched open the rusted over door, and exited into the main tunnel through the larger maintenance room containing the now slightly more eaten Nazi corpse. We didn't say a word. I wanted to say so many things, but I knew that we still had to be careful of the tunnels. I'd completely forgotten about my own wounds, focusing instead on my depression. Home was finally within reach, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to go back anymore.

"Why did it have to be him?" I asked, finally breaking our silence as we neared our destination.

"What do you mean?" Sofia asked with concern.

"There are so many terrible people in this place, yet the Metro takes the one person that doesn't fucking deserve it. I deserve it more than he does."

"It's not like the world as a whole decided he should die," she responded uncertainly. "He was just unlucky."

I agreed with an unsatisfied hum. I replayed the entire event in my head again and thought about what I could and should have done differently. Matvey, whoever he was, would have told me to look at a different point of view or change my perception of the events. I wasn't sure that I even understood the point that he was making. On some level, I wanted to talk to Matvey again. Fuck going back to Mayakovskaya though.

Perhaps this one wasn't my fault. Maybe it was his time. It didn't make losing him any easier, but Alex seemed to think that I shouldn't blame myself for it. Who was I to argue? My head hung low throughout the rest of the journey, but I noticed that it was from simple and comprehendible sadness rather than the normal complex guilt which, in some strange way, was almost uplifting.


	14. Epilogue

Epilogue

Sofia – Day 2 – 21:00

I didn't know what to do. Ilia had just lost his lifelong friend and was distraught. Having only known him for the better part of a day, I couldn't even begin to console him. Surprising him with Alex's bullet lighter didn't help as much as I'd hoped and I was at a loss for words. In the brief moment that Alex and I were alone before he swallowed the capsule, he told me to keep Ilia safe and well. I promised that I would do my very best.

Even before this, it was clear that Ilia was deeply troubled. What he had told me about his mother opened my eyes to that. It was going to take a lot of work for him to get over this, I hoped that I could be there to help him through it. When we were relatively sure that we were safe, holding his hand seemed to provide him with some comfort, his flicker of a smile showed that much.

Despite his emotional distance, I liked him. I couldn't quite explain why, and I wasn't sure if it was just because he'd rescued me from Kitay-Gorod, but I knew that I wanted to help him in any way that I could, especially since Alex would no longer be there for him. The fact that he'd even told me about his mother showed that he was capable of being fixed.

We approached Mendeleevskaya, the station joined with Novoslobodskaya, and Ilia gave the two-hundredth-metre guards a quick wave. He quickly flashed his passport and they let us through to the two further guard posts and eventually to the proper passport control at the entrance to the Hansa station.

"Ilia!" Shouted the excited door guard as we approached, his deep voice resonating through the tunnel. Initially assuming that I was Alex, he committed to a double-take when he properly noticed me. "Who's this? No Alex?"

Ilia slowly shook his head and, while trying to hold himself together, muttered, "No Alex."

The man glanced at me and I responded by shaking my head. "Oh," he simply said, realising his mistake. "You should come in and get home. She with you?"

Ilia nodded and we moved through the guard post. Finally, we were actually safe. The moment was bittersweet; the two Hansa stations were like nothing I'd ever seen with their bright lighting and surprisingly crime free areas, but the moment was tarnished by the lack of Ilia's companion. Once we got to the Novoslobodskaya hospital, I promised Ilia that I would stick by him to help him through his grief. I owed him my life, I could at least begin to try and repay him for everything he'd done for me.


End file.
